Past. Present. Future.

Its so hard. To sit and watch everything you love
crash into the depths of the ocean. Knowing you
cant do a damn thing about it. You beg inside for
someone to ask you whats wrong. But you know
that they dont really care. They just want answers.
Everyone just wants answers. But who are we to
judge? There is nothing we can do. Until we change
ourselves. We are so use to hiding behing everything
that we use to know. That we dont know who we
are. Or what to do. How to act. Or who to be. That
is why we turn to the self-destructive habits. The
very ones weve been warned not to touch. But cant
help but to at least try. Only to find out its the
perfect escape from reailty. Killing ourselves.
Little. By. Little. By. Little. Were killing ourselves.