we all put make-ups on the past.

white wash or blemish it

it sheds lights into our future


the shell on the snail

never the burden but

a true home

allows an unsettling heart


hitchhiking the way up to heaven

like railroad

sabotaging nature’s face

blowing away the insult the abusing the unfairness inside me

the choices that all haven’t landed on me


as well, we could call it

a life

the “virtual stage” filled with cheap thrill

to spin


Posted by Zöe 雪里红

Native of North (China), Interpreter, Translator, #italki Teacher, Avid Reader, Sontag maniac, Crowdfunding Publishing enthusiastic (currently research on), I write

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