There was a sudden sound of wind in my ears, and the corner of my mouth was slightly raised. I opened my right hand to cover my eyes. What was flowing between my fingers was the halo of the sun, or was it my hazy emotions?
From the past, I have never really seen myself clearly. Am I a gentle angel, a proud devil, or a fairy living alone in the cracks? Watching, laughing, I cried.
Biting her lip tightly, it broke. The strong smell of blood. Chapped fingertips smell of orange. We have been saying that we need to be freed, abandoned, and... . . . . . But after so long, we have accomplished nothing. Still thinking about it, still pulling at the scars in pain, still crying, hurting everything until there was nothing left.
When I was alive, thinking about the way I came, I felt the pain clearly and smiled slightly bitterly.