The years go fast when you're just a little fly that has no perception of time

 I've seen you going through my thoughts again,
try to make up of what's inside my head,
slowly reading through my old mess.

Haunted by the past in the present,
the remarks that were made all lacked of presence,
everything I said is just void in essence.
Sincerity for us was an abundance of lies,
so we blossomed into wingless, motionless flies,
haunted by the present in the past.

So once again,
I've written the issues on a list,
trying to find out the gist.