My morning is awakened by the swift breeze that is blown
Blown from the microscopic crack that exists along my window
It travels from my wrists, my shoulders, my neck, and finally to my spine
The wind that crawls down my back reminds me of the winter of ‘95

The winter when my skin went dry and my lips began to crack
When my hair began to deteriorate and my skin became pale
When the figure in front of the mirror began to grow thinner and thinner

The winter where I forgot the definition of family and friends
When I believed that those words were just symbols that were juxtaposed with one another
When I believed that time with companions was simply time wasted

The time that could be used thinking of August summer nights
Time that can remind me of the unbelievable vibe that once ran through my body
Time that I can reminisce the indescribable seconds before you left-
before you left the winter of ‘95