Dry your tears little girl
For no one can see you cry
Wipe your sadness away
You can smile all you want
But eyes don't lie
So dry your tears little girl
For you are not
A little girl anymore

Some stories never end, but this one does.

Though distance may stretch, it finds an end—
A journey of 40,000 kilometers at most.
Though we drift far, we too must part—
380,000 kilometers, no more.
Yet heart to heart, though far apart,
We meet in eight short minutes.

I penned the start, you wrote the close,
Will there be another chapter?
Who knows?

Meeting you was the luckiest moment of my life.
You brought light and warmth to my world,
and for a while, that felt like everything.
But soon, I realized that simply meeting you wasn’t enough.
We crossed paths only to part ways,
leaving me with memories and what-ifs.
The saddest part is knowing we weren’t meant to stay.
You were both a beautiful gift and a bittersweet loss,
reminding me that sometimes the most important encounters
are the ones that don't last.

It's raining in your city.
I want to ask if you have an umbrella,
but I don't.
Because I am afraid that you say no,
and I can't do anything about it
just like I say I love you,
but I can't give you the life you want.

Hey, come on!
Let me show you a trick to see
the girl you've been longing for right now.
Ready? Close your eyes. 3, 2, 1...
You actually believe that stupid lie?
Just how desperately do you miss her?

Reading a book once more,
New insights may unfold,
Yet the ending stays the same.

Meeting you, wasn't it the same?
Moments might change,
Yet never rearrange.

Parting is still parting, heart still yearns.
Yet fate's cold hand has cast us into the deep ocean.
Bitterness still flows.

No matter how many mountains I write of, every word speaks only of you. Waking from a broken dream, regret lingers with each return to consciousness.

Sadness creeps in
And keeps my warmth out
As though my internal warmth
Wanted to leave in form of tears.

I call to the sky with dirt on my palms,
the fresh taste of blood still trailing down my throat;
a sense of agony still lingering in my soul.

what more do I need to do
to rid myself of this pain?

it seemed I hadn’t given enough,
so I clawed and took instead —
what more?