When we spoke for the first time, I was intrigued by how you colored your words in shades I must have once known, but somehow had forgotten. I will always remember the color that your words painted when you said you were a mess: a broken universe. Maybe it was only me that couldn't understand your words or it was just me that didn't want to. But your depths, how you kept them so well hidden that it appeared to be shallow to everyone who met your eyes, it made me wish to drown in your shadow completely as it was cast as a masquerade on the ground. I remember when I stood right in front of you the last word of bitterness rolled off your tongue: "run". But I just couldn't, I marveled at you. All I wanted was to get lost in your complexity to return with you in my arms. "No fire could ever burn me to the bone", I said. But you begged me to leave, for you were a walking illusion with only a shadow that knew the truth, but could not be dived into. But I couldn't give in to a heart so afraid of a repeating past with no loopholes you never opened your eyes after the first time you were hurt. You had lost your own shadow in the darkness. I may have been blinded by my own shadow that was cloaked around my body and acted as a fool sometimes, but I would never hurt you; our shadows overlapped, and to be honest, I loved all of it. Mine must had grasped yours and pulled it all the way over here, because I could still feel you toss and turn at night. I could never paint the constellation that you were on a black canvas, you came to me in falling stars-you hid them so well. But I caught them all and I will put them back where they belong.