waiting.

we will always be waiting.

for a call that will never come.

or the words to be the right ones.

waiting.

to feel whole.

complete with another soul.

forever waiting.

for a comma and a period to be

exchanged. And ready

to feel better.

to stop the wait.

the ever so monotonous wait.

and continue on.

better to be sooner than late.

but not better late than never.

for late is far too long a wait.

and never is a long forever.

a long forever to wait.

and scales and clocks and measurements

are sickening to the eye of this body I rent.

for they enhance the wait.

they drag the hours

and I question my power.

over this weight

and the wait.

and purpose itself.

scales tipping

faucets dripping

making me lose my mind

to the point where I can’t find

it ever, no, never again.

and the search is a dreadful thing

to bring myself to do.

and so I debate.

the worth of control

and what may certainly be

my bittersweet end

but conscious are the affairs with fate

and so I will sit here.

sit here and wait.