The bedroom is dark. Cold air is all she can feel, all she can grasp. She cannot understand just how painful everything is; all the feelings are too much. She sits crouched behind the edge of her bed, shifting between blankets and pillows, soaking them in tears. She holds her iPhone with cold fingers, checking the time every lonely minute. 2:03 AM. She sniffs, hoping the next minute will bring a phone call. It never comes.
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Time Machine
ПоэзияA series of short paragraphs for each member of SNSD in their new Japanese MV/PV: Time Machine.
