$STT My jockstrap is gone, and the little bird I used to be proud of is exposed.

I thought the mountain dan dan flowers would bloom bright red—who would’ve thought they’d be this damn rotten?
Back then I sold my wife to get you, and now I’m treated with contempt.
Every time I open my eyes, open the app, and see you getting worth less and less, it hurts so much inside me that I feel like dying.
Cold and warmth are something only you can know—who can tell your true value?
Alright, damn it, I can’t keep making this up anymore. I’m going to put together a cloth strip—first I’ll find the little bird a place to nest.