Don't be a prisoner
Of past
If you do
Only pain will last

Don't be a over thinker
Of present
If you do
It'll be malignant

Don't be a liability
Of future
If you do
You'll be left alone creature

The past is a frozen lake
The future, a distant dream
For which everything is at stake -
Or at least, that's what it seems.

In yesterday lie our regrets
Tombs named after the things we failed to do
Can you see how we are so full of ourselves
Thinking we have a purpose to attend to?

Do not worry about tomorrow, either
For all we have is today
Filled with worries and sorrows
You do not need memories to get in the way.

Why should I answer tomorrow today?
My past is haunting me
My future is scaring me
Should I go here or there?
I don't know and no one would care

Limbo.
Time engulfs light. Unanswered questions. Silence.
Tick Tock.
He awakens. darkness swallows his passage to light.
He sways the lonely corridor within his mind, hopelessly wandering. Searching. Existing.
He strays off course. Now he is lost, back to where he started.
All over again.
He awakens, searching for an answer.
Impending light is looming. Too late. Time engulfs night.
Limbo.

I don’t think I’d say hello even if I found the right words to
However you can have this
You can have this night
You can kiss this morning
I’m very tired
I’m tired of this mourning
Your memories don’t burn
Not like they used to
But I’m twirling my thumbs
And I’m swallowing dead corpses

You left
You left twice actually
Idk
I’m tired
I’m tired of this mourning

past
present
future

what was
what is
what will be

irreducibly distinct
yet indefinable - one without the other
a temporal trinity

My past is too much of an influence on my present,
I know it's a problem.
But whenever I look in the bathroom mirror,
I see my 15 year old self,
A cigarette hanging out of her mouth
Just like the one that is currently in my mouth.  
Her hair is still dyed dark purple and out of control,
Spiking out of her head
Like she just stuck her finger in a light socket.  
She takes the cigarette out of her mouth
And smoke clouds up the mirror.  
I watch her hand reach up through the smoke
Into the real world and take my cigarette
Out of my mouth and toss it in the trash.  
I can't decide whether I've gone completely crazy
Or if that encounter was the
Best thing that ever happened to me.  
Why can't it be both?