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.