Mess

She's home again. Sitting in her room, infinite sadness in her eyes. "That home is a mess. Why don't you just leave?" people would tell her. "This is the mess I'm comfortable with," she wants to say.

Quick Visit, I Promise

Crossing the road to visit you, I said hello. It's a quick visit, I promise. No hug, no kiss. Just want to hold hands and see each other. Later we can continue with our own lives. Open the door, please.