I don't want to write a poetry about you
If I do, that will make you real and true;
That will make you unavoidable and always there;
That will make me confused again, my dear.
We seem to be so connected, do you see?
I walk, you walk; I laugh, you look.
We seem to have a direction like a bee,
I go here, you'll be there; I sit here, you stare.
But alas, like all of my failed romances
You are not mine as well
You never were, and hopefully, you never will be
Because distance is safer for us.
But to tell you honestly,
The true distance of feelings
Becomes greater
When the distance between us goes bigger and bigger.
So now I'm confused about the distance I'm keeping.
Am I killing the feelings?
Or fostering inane nothings?
Perhaps I'm just stupidly on my way to falling.