Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2015
And I don't want anyone to know.
This wanderlust has got me reeling;
I am begging for a new start.

But can I stay?
I've never been able to before.
My travels are visits and habits, never routine.

I am no one.
I am nowhere.
You can't miss me that way.
I'm tired of me. I'm sick of me. For all intents and purposes:  I am not me.
Jesse Adams
Written by
Jesse Adams  Blackpool, England
(Blackpool, England)   
525
   lucy winters
Please log in to view and add comments on poems