It turns out that this beauty should not be owned by me.

The wound that you have, the crack will no longer heal. If you are gentle,

It is my sustenance of happiness; if you are indifferent, you will become glaring when exposed to the air.

The wound because you seem to have a rhythm of life. Open to the hustle and bustle of the poppy, the wilting heart is the end of the gorgeous. The wound that exists for you is so painful, but why is it a happy smile? The wound that opened for you,

It’s my heartfelt heartache. The tears of the wounds have always been salty.

I can't open it and continue to lie, it doesn't care about your cold. Silly wounds, still waiting for your touch, but should not use my blood as a background, if it lies on the chest of another person,

Maybe you won't be so dismissive.