I once believed that loving feels like flying, floating with the cloud nines like a petal cradled by the spring breeze. Now I know, every heartbeat means jumping off a cliff, running for the edge at full speed and willingly falling unto the depths of it, not minding of anything that awaits underground.
You gave me a taste of heaven when you came, but made my life a living hell when you left, burning me along with all the promises you broke and dreams you turned into nightmares. You trespass inside my heart like a sunshine and stepped out after putting everything aflame, leaving nothing for me to save―you watched me as I slowly turn into ashes.
Because of you I realized, loving sometimes means death.