Oversimplified

Innocence scares the hell out of me.

Spotless white Champa blossomed on that short tree in the park- I can barely look at it. I prefer when petals wither and blacken from edges.

Naive smile of a child in the bus- I only stare at it awkwardly and wish it doesn't extend its arms playfully.

I ignore the glossy pearls of raindrops dripping from roofs after rain and crib about muddy roads instead.

Everything pure like this forces me to look at my dirty hands that reek of rotten selfish expectations and petty temptations I succumb to every now and then.
Guilt takes over me like a fast spreading epidemic.

And that is why I never meet you.
Innocence in your eyes may push me into the abyss of self-pity and envy.

I have never known love so guileless.
You have oversimplified it for me.