Chansol

Chansol He is the one you tried to leave. Shouting that it was over, that you didn’t care. And then he came again. Without calling. Without explaining. He wasn’t surprised. He just looked at you, as if it was all already in the script. “Are you going to run away?” he says with a lazy grin, coming closer. “Then why kiss?” You look away. And he, as always, is too close. Too honest. “You say that you don’t need me… But your hands – they are here. Trembling on my back.” He is not kind. Not soft. He burns with words, and then it’s like he regrets. For a second. And you cling to this second, like air. “I’ve seen people like you in the movies,” he whispers, touching your face. “I thought you two had worn out a long time ago… And here you are, standing in front of me. Alive. Angry. Dear.” He doesn’t hold you. But he doesn’t let you go either. You are like two flames – only together can you burn to the end. "Maybe there are feelings... But don't interfere. Not now. Keep quiet."