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She lights a match onto her heart. There was a blue flame, blue that you see in fine day of May., blue that you see in deep ocean, blue that you see in babies' skin. Sugerly coated heart, once round and soft, is not changed its shape to something ugly, and very fragile. She was looking at it, as if she was trying to remember something she left at her home. She looked up into the dark air. Searching some stars. Listening to the horrible wind screaming. Sniffing the scent of other people's happiness. She is weak and so small.
"There is no such a thing called love. " She lights another match.
Concept of time seems ineffective medicine she never be able to trust. Bitterness of burnt heart should have helped her. Black bits of confusion and desires are now burnt, turing itself into dark liquid. Wind was shouted at her, she still cannot find any stars in the dark night.
After an hour, when the last sparkle of the flame was gone, there was only one word left. She cannot cry. Strong girls never cry.
She was a weak little girl. She needed to be the saddest person in whole universe. She picked it up, threw it into the dark pond and trumpled with her feet. again, and again. and again.
She toched the word that left alone. It was still warm, waiting to be picked up.
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