I find myself living just to see the end of the day. Blurred sight of past and present, what the fuck am I even doing? Those memories are useless and draining. I'm trying to spill my guts but I keep refraining. Because letting things out is too hard. But keeping things in keeps my mind scarred. I'm bleeding on the inside and I don't really care. Because in the end who's really there? I'm alone with these walls. How long until my eyes shut for the last time? I hope it's soon.