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Time drags us along. Where does it take us? It takes us forward of course, but does it not only ever just take us backward? It digs it's nails deep into our flesh. It rips us from our beloved. Faces, now faceless. Memories, now forgotten. Voices, now silent. Why do you do this to us Time? Was it that we asked too much of you, by asking for more? Why do you so willingly spread yourself thin for us, only to at a later moment, turn against us and so viciously wrong your innocent pupils, your undoubting children? Greedily, you rip us from everything that we know and treasure, and thrust us forward into uncertainty. People may say time heals, but I say, time can also hurt. Time pulls us forward. Desperately, we reach for yesterday. The pain, hurt, and lonliness blends into one crooked dagger and buries itself deep in our chest the very moment we see that yesterday, is gone. A cry resides in our throat, choking off our air as we realize, there is nothing we can do to stop this inevitable tragedy. Yet what do we do? We are pathetic, as we claw at the dirt, trying to tear away from the ever tigtening grip that time has around our ankles, and crawl like a worm back to a time that we know has passed. Every time we try, becomes every time we fail. Spirits, with time, break. Friendships, with time, wilt. Love, with time, fades. People, with time, die. Time heals how? Our time, or rather my time, I fear, is running out. Yet that only means that another time, for me is soon on its way. Uncertainty is the nature of the pain, but also, the nature of the thrill. Time is setting a trap for me, I know it, And so I think, being that the will of time is unmoveable, and that the consequence of time is inevitable, I just might lay down in it and watch it close around me. Now I ask you, from my prison, was it suicide, or was it natural death?



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