I can't touch you.
You don't love me.
That's fine. I don't have to worry about losing.
You're gone. I don't have to worry about gains and losses.
You leave my world, you leave my eyes. You leave my song.
You go away.
You don't love me.
Please go away.
Because I love you. The roots run deep into the soil.
I had no choice but to exchange the pale reason of deep love for a sentence in the end.
I leave.
Then I would add a full stop with all my strength.
Thanks.