by Alexis Gostelow

I am made of the clock ticking
At one and two, right after lunch
When I left class,
Walked through concrete hallways
To sit alone, surrounded by cement
brick walls and metal benches
Afraid someone would see I was where
I shouldn’t be
Dawdling in the cold,
Watching time change shadows

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About the Author:

Alexis Gostelow is a professional in the arts and received a degree in Art History from the University of St Andrews, Scotland. She currently resides in Brooklyn, New York.