Don’t look at me, world, don’t look at me. I am going crazy and I wasn’t this way. I am dying from inside, but once I was walking your way.
I was alive.
I was twenty, I was a sister.
720 hours, and they all had passed.
120 years, and we all have passing too.
I wish my mom will be the last mother who loses her son.
I wish I will be the last sister who is not a sister anymore.
I wish I could dig his grave and grab him out, I wish I could punch him once more!
I am drinking death into life and breathing mourning into my bones.
I am a dying sister who refuses to let go.