Even in those moments you're suppose to be alive, you're not. It's like surviving when being alive it's too hard, unrealistic. They keep trying to give you joy, but they don't know that feeling it's far away, buried in old stories. You try to leave the darkness behind, and time it's not being hepful, fair. Every day when you're almost a sleep, he brings you that few mischievous minutes, when you remind exactly who you want to grab your hand and resuscitate what's long dead and gone.

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