I am a good daughter.
Are you really?

I am worthy of being proud of.
I am worthy of so much love.

Repeat that again, and again.

You try so hard to satisfy her.
You both cry.
And a dawn of a new day awakens you to the same, endless cycle.

We are both getting sick.

Physically sick, mother.

Can love be the cause of death?

Is being fixated with the sun's beauty a sure way of becoming blind?

Oh, mother!
Perfection does not exist.

It all slips away.
Everything does.

Oh, mother!
How will I ever calm our hearts?

Your embrace is too tight.
But no!
Don't let go!

Oh, mother.
I am yours.
Aren't I?

Stinging wounds.
No one knows.
They love us.
We are perfect.
Sisters, they say.

Oh, mother..

My purest love.
Cleansing me
Ever so ruthlessly.

I can't see.

A cost?
It is the greatest, afterall.
The greatest love
that kills
But it only
keeps you alive.