Life is waiting to begin, her glance went astray and the rest is unwritten. Time still passes, slowly; it walks so slowly, laughing at her. She is a salve. Tied. She’s in the middle of nowhere, blind, deaf, and speechless, waiting for the pen to start writing her destiny. Ghosts of doubt and pain fly around her head. Dazzling her. Don’t know what to do, she’s willing time to pass a little faster, cause anxiety is killing her. The idea of being a slave of time makes her want to scream…but still, the rest is unwritten…
fgmta.
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