I felt I wanted it so badly, my heart could reach out from my throat-
But it wasn't me, it was someone else.
I used to think that, "Hopes and dreams... what more could one need?" Where has that version of myself gone now?
Held at bay by an imitation, I lost my guiding light.
Upon the border of life and death, snowdrops bloom in force.
If due to some kind of mistake, I'm ever crushed to pieces,
At the very least, place those flowers around my empty shell.
Is this really all there is? Seems about right, don't you think?
I don't even care if everyone thinks I've given up.
This isn't like me... it's not like me at all - there's just no value in something anyone can make.
[Full Version Continues:]
Tracing the scar left behind by that wound, I call out in vain,
For something sleeping deep inside me to awaken-
But if I really did have something like that,
Much like a chameleon, it would have long ago been dyed by this world.
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Am I living as if I were dead? Or am I dead, only seemingly alive?
But those snowdrops at the border of life and death are so beautiful!
If by some great mistake, I somehow became competent,
I hope someone will put a bullet through my forehead.
Isn't this enough? It's enough already, right?
I have no interest in a life behind the glass.
No matter whether it's right or wrong, I can't be separated from myself.
Enough already! Enough already! If I could allow myself some consolation, things would at least get easier;
It's not like I'm wrong, or right for that matter- It's because I don't know the answer that I can't ever allow it!
If I'll just end up quitting anyway, I won't even bother to try.
So amidst those snowdrops, dye me white once more.
Me and myself.