You were so lethal.

So unorthodox, tainted and inadequate. I might as well screw this over that you were a synonym of everything bad and cowardly. A catastrophe you were.

You were fire Min Yoongi and I was devastatingly aloof to those malicious flames that engulfed your flesh like a second skin. You were prone to destruction, commited to fuck things over, romanticize them and then brood over the tragedy caused by your own blood.

You slithered out in the world perched with a banner of the most brutal antagonist one can ever script in their story. You were a coward. And cowards are the most heinous and appalling of antagonists one can conjure up.

You ran away from your fate. You ran away like running was all you had ever known. With your feet wobbling, your arms pathetically flailing around and mouth contorting into a grin of plea - i watched you toppling over the ground with your skin blemished and bruised in all shades of blue and black. Ironically, you titled blue as the colour of intrigue. One that made you swoon over the complexity like simplicity. But when I saw you draped in that shade, I grimaced.

Truth to be told, I know you grimaced too for you wallowed on the ground in insatiable hurt like a painter denied to paint a memorable masterpiece once in their life, like a storyteller being thrusted into a void deprived of audience and volume, and like a human devoid of optimism.

You ran as if you were high on adrenaline, not entirely sober yet you grasped the truth that the very moment you were turning your back against your destiny─your salvation.

You ran and ran and ran.

You just ran.