HURT ポスター

This stillness is deafening. The weight of faded memories settles heavy, much like the velvet of these wilted roses around me. Every trace of light seems to have fled this space. Surrounded by the ghosts of passion, I just hold myself a little tighter, beneath the scattered remnants of joy, just trying to keep the fragments of myself from scattering further into the dark. So heavy, so utterly alone.