It’s one in the morning; I keep philosophising.
What is happening is getting terrifying.
Getting my hopes up, letting my guards down.
It is time to call a halt when sugar looks like salt.
“Have the pond of tears turned into a sea?” I don’t even have a clue
since the day she told me, “You just don’t look good in blue”
Underneath my scar, I know I have come so far.
When the days get older, the nights get colder.
I guess what I could say is “try your best not to get hurt”,
because all you need is knowing your worth.
