The plum rain has not stopped, and moss marks are spreading.
The young heart is wet and quiet, yet sensitive and slightly astringent.
Don't tell anyone, just soak in quietly and grow slowly.
The days are warm and gentle, the rain falls slowly and slowly, and the fog in my heart never goes away.
The sunshine of twenty is still far away.
Purpose: Use words to leave my twenty-year-old whispers to the world.