Sugar is the name and your heart is the game. Sugar loves sweet things. She'll devour it whole. No matter what crosses her she will always forgive. Kick her down like a dog over and over. There will still be a place for you to crawl inside. She won't forget, but gosh darn it she will forgive. Straw hat. The sun burns. Her clothes layered like her heart. Mid-length black hair and dark grey eyes. Neglects to cover her legs, wears skirts instead. Her hands don't thaw in the sun. Freezing limbs. Permanent smile. When the day is long and the dog days are ahead. That's when it turns stiff. But nothing a good sleep can't fix. Sugar will wake up refreshed and smile bright again. Her age is unknown. Old enough, old enough to make mistakes. She won't feel regret. Boring height and a boring body, on the slim side, if you had to venture a guess. The in-between is where lost things are found again. Sugar waits by the bus stop every day, hoping for her things to turn up. She can't remember what she lost along the way, but her insides remember - the way it scrunches up when the bus doesn't come. It's hard to name that emotion after so long. The bus brings lost things. It comes so rarely these days. The town is filled with old people, and young people are sparse. Wheat and golden plains are all you can see for miles. Flat land, the prairie is what Sugar grew up in. The in-between lays where it's the most quiet. Sugar was born lost and hungry. Sugary foods don't make for good nutrition. The sugar crash that follows drags out. Chronic low glucose plagues her. Sugar is sweet. Can't you tell? Genuinely sweet. If you stab her, I think sprinkles or fruit punch would spill out. She is good at waiting until the solar system collapses and folds in on itself. Until time blurs at the edge and her eyes turn heavy from waiting. Sadness won't leak into her anymore, she scrubbed that part of her forever ago. Giving, like a giving tree. Mindful not to spread her cold extremitie 【别名】中文别名:砂糖,甜心砂糖