Even we don’t want to become a face that scolds in someone’s memory.

To become a stranger, who doesn’t know how to walk.

A flower that is not me. Even I couldn’t become a flower that time.

I didn’t even know how to become a silent bird.

Before love arrived, because I was used to waiting.

A storm through the night, allows two small rivers to flow down my face.

Building a wall in my heart, compared to the memories that dance with my hand.

The most valuable sentence is “I will long for you”.

It is also not a tale that exists among the stars.

Even we don’t want to become a face that scolds in someone’s memories.

To become a stranger.