i am lying on my bed, and i've got nothing to do, now grabbing this pen, with my heart torn in two, still wondering what to write, thinking this can make things right, all i can think is you in my mind, but i'm wounded and blind.
Time is terrible in the sense that it is never consistent. It favors you one moment and betrays you the next. It gives you hope for a second— crushing it in an instant. Years of happiness can come crumbling down in a tick.
thoughts from when i was seated in a quiet spot facing a lake
