Time passes, but it seems to go away with my life, but I'm not living it.
I'm breathing but I can't feel the air.
My heart beats but I'm not feeling alive.
I'm just standing here, still, staring, thinking.
I can hear people talking, but I don't really listen,
their mouths move but inside I'm just thinking
about this lines that I write as an scape of this hopeless place.