我握紧手中的温暖,我知道我被冻僵的手,也会变得温暖,像春天。以为立了春,春天就来了。可是窗外的风,依旧冷得刺骨。原来,立春这一天并不是一条线,可以痛快地分割冷暖。雨落在衣服上,开不出一朵淡淡的雨花,留下了绽放的痕迹,因为没有比黑色更深沉的颜色。我像是河流里的木桩,逆着人流而立。因为我不想在我停滞在原地的时候,看到的都是离开的背影。我开始向前奔跑,像是河流里的逆流而上的一尾鱼,跌跌撞撞。我不想,我悲伤的表情在人们本就因这雨而低落的心情里,染上一抹乌黑的悲凉。雨水,从我的发梢滑落了,像所有的雨水一样 I grip the warmth of the hands, I know I was frozen hands, will become warm, like spring. Thought that established a spring, spring is coming. But the wind outside the window, still cold biting. It turned out that the beginning of spring is not a line this day, you can enjoy the warm and cold segmentation. Rain fell on the clothes, can not open a faint rain, leaving a trace of bloom, because there is no darker than the color of black. I am like a pile of wood in the river, standing against the crowd. Because I do not want to see the left back when I was stuck in place. I began to run forward, like a fish in the river upstream and upstream, stumbled. I do not want to, my sad expression in the people because of the rain and low mood, a touch of black sadness. Rain, it slipped from my hair, like all the rain