The me of yesterday swayed by the wind
is like a fleeting flower I once saw
Again I will be born and vanish here
Silent,
so no one will notice me
"Can you forget everything that you know?"
When you make memories so easily
why do we refuse to forget it all?
Why do we end up in tears?
Why are you crying now?
Again, I ask, quietly,
"Will you believe the me that's here?"
Again, I try, quietly, to connect with someone—
"So please don't release this hand."
—before my heart vanished
I always felt it.
The world must be cruel.
When the scenery I see has become broken