There’s a diary I only open when I’m alone.
Everything I hope for and everything I regret
Scribbled on my mind with the blood from my heart.
Under my blanket: they appear to me, giving illusions of the hope I long for
Over my blankets: they disappear from me, protecting the image of someone unknown
All packaged behind this thin line of smile,
Is everything I hope for and everything I regret
A summary of the personalities that I confine.
I’m watching the world now from the window
Of this diary I only open when I’m alone.