I pressed the last red
flower you gave me, in a...

She calmly approached him,
while he was carving a wooden bird...

The cold breeze
curled around her...

You killed her so many times
in a looped process...

you
won’t...

Her strained veins
pressed...

Forecasts were raining over me,
but I was already wet...

I braided the roots of a tree
to save within a music box...

Her hands
trembling...

Bridges from reality to my mind
have been crashing...

If you’re the
dark...

I was given a second chance
to think which I didn’t need...