The coldness.
Used to sit next to one person
That looks quiet and passive until we think for ourselves
That he doesn't feel anything.
But the second the wind blows,
Through the light sun
He looked away.
Like trying to remember something
That day, I just understood that
... sometimes. People who look cold.
Might ever feel too much.
Until not wanting to feel anything else
It's not because he's not hurt.
But because he's tired.
With carrying it alone.
Become silent.
That doesn't want anyone
Hearing my own broken voice






























































