I get up and I’m thinking, if all
what happens to me happens to someone else.
Cuts, tears, fake smiles.
I think this goes no, my head will explode.
Nose happens to me, I changed a lot of humor.
cuts on my arm there tell me that’s not me.
The girl who was, faithful and loving
back in the past half remained blurred.
A pink wardrobes, full of butterflies
change one black, perhaps change the time.
pass second year it is all that I want but I’m going in as shit why would I try?