Ceiling
Staring at the ceiling
Blank, white, clean slate.
Nerves
Rising from the abyss of the ceiling
And flooding my brain
Can’t eat
Can’t think about anything else
Blank doc
In front of my face
Not a thought in my mind
Now I’m back
Staring at the ceiling
Getting lost in the ceiling
Worrying
Can’t sleep at night
Awake
Staring at the ceiling
As if it’s blank slate that will give me an answer to my question
What to write about, what to be, where to go, what my future holds
And yet, the ceiling
The flatness, the pure white even in the darkness, so smooth
Still can’t help
I can’t decide
Nothing helps
I’m lost.
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