For Comrade Edward,
I am only envy, jealous and hate
why I don’t have scissor hands, scissor feet, scissors-like
mouth and teeth... You have none of them?
Even without these, I
still can’t hug well,
so I know she catches me
thinking about the difference between me and her.
Maybe love itself is lonely,
not to catch life,
just like those colorful sugar-coated pills to
make life easier.
I saw MAY sullenly divide the
men who tried to get close to her into several large pieces and
put them together into the shape
she likes. Touching herself with her favorite hands.
This made her unusual loneliness flow
from one sea to another.
Lonely people always cut their lives like this
because they are always outside of her body.
Just like forty years later, I tried hard to
make myself grow some scissors hands.
Wetting the bed in the
nursing home. Spread my legs. At that moment,
I can’t say
anything. Can't do it
if you happen to have no friends
then try to make one yourself
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