If the grief of the whole world were to bear it alone, it would be heart-rending pain.

Just thinking about it, I can't stand it.

Lead-filled head drowsy. There was no pain, only the cold blade of the blade running straight down the pulse, sending a large amount of warm blood gushing out, mingling with the equally warm water.

There was no bloody smell coming, perhaps the sense of smell had been confused.

I felt as if there were thousands of notes mixed together, and I could no longer precipitate any of them, each of which had lost its own meaning.

The limbs are the same, heavy, numb, cold, stiff. Compared to the dead, there are just some eye-catching corpse spots.

But even if there were, I couldn't see anything in this night that was engulfed in black.

Yet the senses are so sensitive, sensitively disgusting. Every cell is shouting, every pore is shouting.

I vaguely saw it, the former lover.

Right in front of me, that dim and pale figure.

I'm not going to reach for it, I'm not going to.

Because I know that even if I try a hundred times, whether it's a hallucination or a ghost, it won't feel like it's real. I also knew that if I made the slightest move, she would be wiped out.

Probably, I made a mistake. It's just a nightmare that arises when fantasy and reality meet...... That's all.

Her voice and smile, her gestures, all her memories and mine, haunt me all the time. But what I know is that her body has been burned, her soul has vanished, and everything she has long since ceased to exist.

Yes...... Yes, it's my lost lover.

But even hundreds of times, how persistently I fantasized that I would one day be able to meet her again.

That's just a delusion, it's a lie, and I'm explaining it to myself like this.

If you sew up your eyes, you won't be able to see anything. And all the filthy things, the filthy things, the dark things, and the happy things of the whole world, all of them are invisible.

Unfinished poems are piled up on the table, on the floor.

The residual heat of the twilight had faded, and they shivered in the evening breeze that penetrated through the cracks in the windows. I

I have forgotten whether those poems were left by her or continued by me.

But it doesn't matter, in this biting darkness, I become her, she is me.

Wandering bewilderedly, illusory, unconsciously, like a ghost, wandering lightly.

I hate twilight.

From blue to blood-red, from hustle and bustle to quiet, from hot to cold, I knew it was dusk.

The atmosphere at dusk resembles a giant factory, lit with a handful of orange light bulbs with low wattage.

Little by little, the merciless sun takes away everything it has given to the world.

In that case, why did you kindly give it to me in the first place? just so that I could feel the pain of loss so deeply?

Everything passed quietly, blatantly and without concern.

From this cruel twilight began, the time of the day when I really felt alive, began.

Whether you are busy, tired, or sad, you can't feel alive. Only the fear of death can make people clearly realize that the beating heart in the chest is so vivid.

Are my hands the same as before, and have my hands stained with my own blood before dusk?

I'm not sure...... I've killed people, a lot of people. Whether this blood is theirs or my own, I have a hard time figuring them out. But I thought to myself that my blood should be jet black.

That's me. So dirty, dark, filthy, myself.

Should I beg for purification, should I beg for forgiveness, should I beg for forgiveness?

This pain is a by-product of the innate sin engraved in the bones.

That is, retribution.

But she is an evil that I will never admit no matter what.

Love is the purest, the most good, the most beautiful.

Either way, I was so in love.

I hate twilight, and I hate midnight.

Right now, I'm lying on this sickbed—a terminally ill and incurable disease—on the sickbed.

I vaguely felt the tips of her soft, cold hair skimming my fingertips.

I tried to catch it, but it was in vain. The joints were rusty, blocked from movement - maybe it was just my autosuggestion.

Because I can't catch it...... It's just a wind, isn't it?

Midnight wasn't wide, it was just a black ribbon of cloth. As long as you cover your eyes, you will never be able to see again.

When the vision is gone, all the other senses in the body become extremely sensitive.

I couldn't sleep.

I'm not irritable, I'm not used to it, I'm just feeling ...... Suffering.

Ahhhh......h It's too noisy, it's too noisy. It's like piercing the eardrum. All it takes is a moment of pain to bring permanent relief.

Now, that's right?

It's the same with death, isn't it.

But no, if you think about it.

I'm living for the sake of two people now. This fragile and sick body carries two lives to exist, and there are two heartbeats that have not disappeared.

That is the unbearable weight of life, the unbearable pain of life.

But I had to bear it.

I imagined the world without hearing. But that's useless.

Because, I hear the whistling of air rushing back and forth in my chest, I hear the roar of my heart pounding under my ribs, I hear the gurgling of blood flowing in my veins...... These voices from my body will follow my bones and be reflected directly in my head very clearly.

Splitting headaches.

I even heard her chuckle softly.

Yes...... All this torture comes from myself, and this is my torture and blame for myself.

I don't even know how to pass on this love and longing to the past than why it brought her happiness.

When I opened my eyes, it was still as dark as an abyss.

She seemed to be whispering in my ear, and I couldn't even turn my head.

I don't know if I can't, or I don't dare.

All I could hear was her gentle voice, as clear and soft as ever. But I'm different, my voice has long since become hoarse, and my eyes have long since become cloudy. I can't do anything.

My beloved lover...... I love you so much.

I smelled the faint scent of her again.

Very soft and yet very clear. There seems to be nothing, looming.

It's a fragrance that can't be blended in any way in the world.

Now, I can only dye it bitterly.

If the mind dies, everything can disappear. Along with all the good and the bad, they were buried in the bottomless night.

However, it didn't want to die, but it couldn't live, so it struggled and struggled between the gap between the half-dreaming and half-awake, the dying and the dead. Together with all that is good and all that is not good, it is complicated, tormented, washed, born and destroyed, not born and immortal.

Just like my lover who disappeared into the night.

I hate twilight, and I hate midnight, but I hate dawn even more.

It seems to be bright but not bright, and the blue-soaked curtain in the east is slowly pulled up, but the cold ice that corrodes the bone marrow and wraps around the fingertips never fades.

The sun of hypocrisy is rising again, and the lies spread by this good deceitster are causing darkness to retreat. What seems like a brand new day is about to start again.

Like an anesthetic, the busy days make me forget all my grief.

However, in the dead of night, there will be a salty sparkle in the eyes again. Dawn is the needle, the moment of stinging during the injection.

Running through this body, it hurts to the heart.

Even if it's unsettling, there's nothing it can do.

Life should be a happy thing. I began to question, to question all this, to question myself as a living being.

Maybe it wasn't her who really died, but me.

She has long been liberated, and she has gone to the other side of happiness to wait for me.

And I, on the other hand, are still floating in the sea of suffering that I am alive within.

I know. All my disgust is just my fear.

The dawn that terrified me so much had finally arrived. Her silhouette has finally disappeared from my world for a while.

I lived another day.

Life is better than death, and I have lived a day.

I hate to live.