我的天使 长满了毛

她看到别的天使洁白光滑

于是开始用月亮小刀给自己刮毛

她留下了心上的毛 那里很脆弱 她害怕刮伤

她留下了毛绒绒的头

我送给她黄色的小皮筋

她给自己扎好多个小蝴蝶结

啊！我真是可爱的天使，她心里想。

眼泪的翅膀

一定是用星星连接起来的

一面是山 另一面是海

这是一颗坚强的眼泪

风一来 它就飞

💧

夜晚： ” 是谁弹响了我的月光琴弦，我要惩罚他们融为一体。“

When she is crying

Play fireworks with her

Tears will steam into clouds ☁️

When someone is crying, give Ta* a dry clay ball and let Ta* make it a shape of happiness.

My characters are not gendered. Ta is Chinese phonetic transcription of her/she or it.

A butterfly whose wings grew two feet which made it forget how to fly.

The medicine for it is a banana peel. It slipped and found it would not fell on the ground but it can fly to the sky.

‘Don’t be afraid.’ I want to tell, ‘sometimes, the stumbling block does not necessarily make you fall but might let you fly.’

Stars disappear in the day time but they don not really leave. They are just blocked by the daylight.

I depicted the city in my memory. When I looked back at the city I passed by, I always thought of the young people who were chatting with kebabs in hands outside the shop, the girl sitting at the door in a daze, the lonely figure leaning against the window, the couples walking happily shoulder to shoulder, the crying elephant against the brown background, the huge cat and so on . These scenes don't only merely to a specific city. They are the symbols in my heat and they are the past I haven't experienced.