Like the sun, or the trees, so near
And beautiful like I could touch it
Like I could reach out to it by one attempt
Sometimes, I see pictures
Like the dark, or red blood spilling out
Spilling out from the cut on her left wrist
And she is heartless, emotionless
Like it doesn't matter
Like it's a pleasure
Sometimes I look into the mirror
Like a maniac I look back at myself
Wondering the flaws of my face
The unfit body
Then I look into her eyes, where is she?
And I learn, she's gone
An empty body
Like an empty shell
No soul
by Qistina Sopian
Probably the only suitable words and riddle, best to describe that day
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