I record all my mistakes in ink on paper
Until my fingers cramp and begin to bleed
This ink on this paper is to remind me of the past
As well as to remind that the girl who crumbled no longer has anything to do with me
Maybe I should miss her
But maybe I'm doing well by forcing myself to forget
No one ever warned me the struggle would be this hard
Yet there is not one single moment I will ever regret
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem