I am that one moth. Drawn to false truth, in confusion between moonlight and flame. I know what you'll say. I've seen the end of it.
So, don't come.
Don't try to be that light I constantly yearn for, when I'll end up hurting in pursuit of your warmth.
Please spare me the process of getting hurt all over again.
— Pudding Emperor ⚓
YOU ARE READING
My Golden Blues
شِعرAll my sadness is now significant. A collection of original prose and poetry collected over time.
