Time Passes. Even When It Seems Impossible. Even When Each Tick Of The Second Hand Aches Like The Pulse Of Blood Behind A Bruise. It Passes Unevenly, In Strange Lurches And Dragging Lulls, But Pass It Does. Even For Me.
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Time Passes. Even When It Seems Impossible.
Time Passes. Even When It Seems Impossible. Even When Each Tick Of The Second Hand Aches Like The Pulse Of Blood Behind A Bruise. It Passes Unevenly, In Strange Lurches And Dragging Lulls, But Pass It Does. Even For Me.
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