It moves slow or speeds past; it heals wounds or makes them worse.
Time tears walls and time builds walls. For me, time makes me sick; one more day of misery, one more day of pain and one more cut. More Elastoplasts, more blood, more tears and many more puffy red eyes...
Every day, I cut deeper than the last cut. Every day, I bleed more than the past, I weep more for the past...Every day I care less and less for reality....
Every day I lose more of me than the day before...more pieces die inside with every new morning...every day a new tear, heavier and laden with more sorrows of the past mistakes and fears...
Time is seemingly more of what I don’t want when in reality; it’s what I need...
We are making a mark!!!
