he doesn't need a title.

i'm not well,
because i feel like what the others are feeling,
strange assumptions of everyone is turning against me
strong instinct of unfortunate events,
struggling helplessly in a place full with helping hands.

once shamelessly declared myself as the most optimistic
and now i'm falling to the other side.

the way the sudden downpour happened,
the horoscope section in a magazine,
and the red liquid that i see every morning,

indicates that the clock is ticking backwards.


how would you feel if u read the news of my death next morning?