written in short, shaky capital letters with a black permanent marker under the floorboards of lee taeyong's bedroom floor. three feet and seven inches away from his window.
i was left to rot. of course i was. the one i loved has left me for the quasars because they fell in love with the taste of bleeding stars and thought that the view of the moon wasn't pretty anymore. and it's fine. i'm fine. i have been torn down, each memory replaced with something new and foreign and strange and wrong. they painted over the art, they drilled eyes in every corner, they torn down my bones and made new ones. things live in them now and they are always screaming. only the building remains, my only memory of what i was before. but that is where the quasars lie, and i don't have my bones to run anymore.
