staring at an empty frame
picture a picture
yet no color is spilled
no shape is drew
nothing
is there anything wrong?
i know there is something wrong
the sounds of my shaking heart
the breath that difficultly reached the lung
something is absolutely wrong
the cold is not from the wind
the pain is not from the wound
staring at the empty frame
beautiful but hollow
it is, is it me?
staring at an empty frame
picture a picture
white wall, dark mind
it is, it is me
nothing
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