Ponder
I ponder why someone would like to be alone. I quietly sit in the darkness of my empty room at home. Silence grows louder, as my breathing grows softer. Nothing alone seems to matter. Without any purpose, I sit alone more often, soon coming to the conclusion that I have been forgotten. Forgotten not by the people, but by space. The space which I have forgotten. The place I am, the place I was ment to become, the place no one wants to be. Reclused and lost without a trace. This is me, and I am forgotten. I am what I want to be, That is Alone,