I can't lift up my eyelids because time is heavy
On my eyelids eyelashes stand vertically
Ingrowing
Like poles in Pollock's painting
Cutting through my eyeballs
Sucking the last nerve out

I can't see the rain any more
Reality is fictional
Chaos mingles on my palms
And craves water
Which is supposed to wash my face

I'm half sad
Half mad

I wash my eyeballs which are dry now
Turn my 10 fingers through

Through red pupils
Hoping crave is insignificant act

My eyes are dry now
My eyes are dry now
My eyes are dry now...