It's like just coming out of the depths of the swamp.
In the bright morning light, I closed my dreaming eyes.
Until the smell of vermicelli cake
Wake me up completely
The men and women around you
With the excitement of shuttle
I began to face a pair of dark eyes.
The sun shines through the glass desktop of the podium.
Penetrating bright red nail polish and fatigue between feet.
Last night, because of a phone call
I have insomnia all night.
Even at lunchtime.
I didn't understand the details of lip frequency movement in a class.
Numb by repetition
Save because of numbness
I only eat tofu and cut vegetables.
Save chewing.
Save salt and sesame oil.
Save the chopped green onion and chicken essence.
Just chew a little pepper when you eat.
Remember a specific city.
I am still alive.
In the advanced stage of customization
Soap and shampoo
When water vapor climbs on the tiles,
You look sad all day.
Finally found a trace of feminine moisture.
My long hair scattered around the pillow is mixed with white hair.
Dreams, tears, girls, white sails, waves and bitterness.
If-
I will still miss you.
Love taught me to write poetry.
Love taught me to write poetry.
Teach me to live.
Teach me in a mobile city.
See a green wall.
I grew up.
When you have white hair.
I drink
Sip it slowly.
The nerves of the years are my heartstrings.
Tremble, tremble
Shaking mottled shadows of trees
I know I missed it.
But just because I missed it
Today I want to write poetry and love.
McDonald's in autumn afternoon
My memory
No back
Only those who rush in in the autumn afternoon
A pair of eyes wet with drizzle
In a crowded McDonald's
The loneliness of monopolizing a seat.
Is exploding into popcorn.
Be swallowed up by him
Grateful, he said
Think of the Kunming mouse in the cage in Barnava, Rico, desert. A phone call can shorten the missing.
Facing each other like the green hills on both sides of the Three Gorges.
Never hug each other, half happiness, half pain.
I sit.
A city that will never be your neighbor.
As crowded as McDonald's.
I hope I can be a mountain next to goddess peak.
But you have to promise me.
Never.
Turn over the car body
Reasons for writing poetry
Like to write poetry.
Even if one sentence is complete.
This view of my life.
Can find a little beauty.
This has never happened before.
Be keen on simple words
Be keen on getting old in the sun.
Learn to like yourself.
My intention
Every time you turn on the computer, it will rise.
And fade away quietly every time I form a poem.
open one's eyes
The fierceness of floating smile.
I long for blindness.
Miss my lover quietly
If I encode the text,
If you count it as poetry
I must be among the rolling rubbish around me.
Die smiling.
Fake. Really?
I'm carrying a present in the dark.
Like a ghost
Smile at everyone in the morning.
deceiver
Full of praise for sb.
Flowers in a fake flower bed
Campus lip-synching
deceiver
Even the children gave me a green frog.
It's also fake.
I am a false beneficiary.
But to spread the truth of suffering day after day.
I will be eliminated sooner or later.
Because, I cried.
I cried, my tears are real.
When snowflakes turn into bread crumbs
I waited in the cold.
One starts from a distance
Someone is trying to wipe my tears.
() Come on, huh?