The world is beautiful.
All the people I met were just tales to be told in a different book.
Words that attached themselves with string thinner than water.
Water I collected from the pouring rain
- Despite the coldness, despite the thunderstorms, whirlpools and gale winds,
I stood outside the gate and held out my hand under the blooming sky
The world is beautiful.
I cherish many things, and I regret much more
yet, why does it feel like I've done enough?
Why do my hands stop crawling for a way out?
A school that warps around my head and a workplace that chains my feet.
It feels like... I've found the peace I was supposed to.
Smiles are hollow because sadness is fleeting
yet, a pain that stings my heart, curling around my stomach.
I want to throw up.
It hurts.
It hurts to be inside of this world -
but why is it so beautiful?
Why do my eyes roll back into my head against the bright white light and my body collapse onto the hard wooden floor?
Why does my blood spread across my chest....?
Thank you for making such a world for me to have lived in, because I'll surely miss it.