In the path of growing
I fall down, I get up; I fall down, I get up.
I don’t know whether I become braver or not.
My wings are scarred. My feet are trapped.
I find it shameful when I dare not to say
What I want to say.
I shiver;
I stare at myself through the mirror.
My eyes full of tears.
Oh,
It hurts.
The past hurts.
A sense of powerlessness flows
Through my blood,
It touches my bones,
My muscles,
Every inch of my skin.
I walk to the window,
Wind gives me a warm hug.
A long, deep breath.
I touch my heart,
I tell myself that
We are meant to live with this.
Some things in this world are meant to hurt like a knife,
And some things in this world are meant to be worth a visit.
It is too cold here,
Let’s waiting for the spring.