Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2023
I stare at the ceiling.
As I have been for the past four hours.
A mute existence.
I have been silent all this time.
I have allowed myself to wither for hours on end.
I feel as though I forgot myself.
I have no name, no identity.
I am simply a traveler, allowing the time to pass.
Stephanie
Written by
Stephanie  22/F/Falling for pretty eyes
(22/F/Falling for pretty eyes)   
92
   Pyrrha
Please log in to view and add comments on poems