he used to be soft
and warm was his heart
when all of a sudden
it turned out to be hard.
it's just that,
he's not a block of ice
which could be melted
with an embrace.
he's a cold stone,
and stones can't melt
only chiseled and hammered,
by someone strong and sharp enough.

but i'm not that someone,
even if i am an artist,
who knows how to sculpt.
i'm not to break down your walls
how could i, with you
standing far, and tall?

but how could you be so,
cold and hard,
yet fragile and breaking,
it frightens me to hold you closer
lest i smother you to death