She lied to herself even when she looked herself into his mirror. Even in the very final moment she kept denying she really felt desire and passion and anxiety and pain was not even really felt it was something else, not love,
all her life was lived pretending there was nothing but loneliness and egotism and abandonment and being hurt. She did not even stop once to think what had happened there in that second of her life. All she knew was to hurt.
A hay(na)ku chapbook.