I look up
at my airy
white sighs and the clear sky,
extend my numbing hands,
and buy tenderness.
The morning light that
shined on my desk.
I'd pretend to not hear them
even if someone's
voice went off.
Since the sinking town is
stopping the clock
even as I look out the window,
I'll try playing the part of
"my pitiable self".
Milk tea that's
still so warm.
I gently touch my cheeks,
look at the sky,
and hum to myself
a song I pretend to know--
Hey,
am I stupid?
Milk tea.
I wanna
be living a lot better.
Though,
I'm being left behind
in spite of that.
Sharp gazes
and words on my back,
I listen to someone's song,
and a lone one
pretends
to
like it.
Since both normal things
and the things I don't know
overflow and spill,
I'll try destroying
the defective (this kind of) me.
Milk tea that's
lost its warmth.
I gently
put my mouth to it,
and shed tears,
pretending to not notice
my ever jarring chest.
Hey,
am I bitter?
Milk tea.
Though
I myself am surely in the wrong,
but y'know,
since I wanna be smiling
in spite of that, too--
Although the shadows
swaying back and forth
and the empty cla**room (room)
give me some tranquility,
I can't sleep...
I'm a little
exhausted.
Milk tea.
I am wounded,
I wound,
and even this self isn't
my ally now.
Hey,
I sure am stupid.
Milk tea.
"Surely a day will come when you can smile,"
or something;
I don't know how long
I can believe that for.
Even so, so as to be able to like everyone,
even so, so as to be able to like myself--