I stood in front of the mirror again,
see a sad face,
looking for where to be happy.
I'm looking for myself,
maybe lost among the piles of books,
I want to find it among the quotes on my favorite novel,
which I borrowed from you.
I looked for it again yesterday.
But I lost you today.
Turns out we still need to write a story,
but not to write love,
any of them.