![[AKR logo]](/i/akr-pecat-gradient-small.png)
22nd Sep, 2015
Can you help me fix up my hair? No… of course you can’t. I’m used to your hand reaching over to tuck in the strayed red locks, but I don’t feel that now.
Can you tell me when I smudge my mascara like you always do? No… I should’ve guessed. It’s pity. What will you do now? What can you do now? Anyway, I’ll let it slide. Just like this damned tear sliding across my face. I’ll let it slide because I love you.
But nevertheless, can you at least kiss me on the lips? No… not that either. I’m angry. Angry because you left me to fend for myself in this world of prisons which are our bodies. Angry because now you can’t do anything, and I wish you could. Angry because I can’t see you, hear you, or touch you, kiss you…
Shame on you…