Youth,
Just to leave a few scars on our originally young and fresh hearts,
Those grooves and bumps can lead directly to the depths of our memories.
To find the throbbing and bitterness that have been bleached by time.
I never think impulsiveness is wrong,
As long as it's for someone or something worth it,
Doing whatever it takes is also kind of cute.
But I hate those things that look like,
Hate those hesitations that can't be seen clearly,
They hurt me so much,
I hit my head so badly that I couldn't find the direction.
Maybe forgetting is really an antidote,
But even if memories can be bleached,
Those profound textures,
Can it also change?