The speaker is looking back at a relationship, or maybe just an encounter, and admitting to a mixed feeling. They say they don't regret meeting this person, but they sometimes wish they had walked away at the start and left things at "hello." That small word carries a lot. It stands for the moment before anything got complicated, before attachment and whatever hurt followed.
The poem's form adds to this. Each word or short phrase sits on its own line, so the poem reads slowly and almost reluctantly, as if the speaker is choosing every word with care. The missing "I" in "don't regret" and "had walked" makes the voice feel clipped and guarded, like someone holding back. The mood is quiet, wistful, and a little sore. There is no anger here, just the tired honesty of someone who values what happened but still wonders about the version where it never began. The ending, "hello," feels small and final.