I sit and wait for you.
Years…years
I’ve waited.
You might have come before,
Maybe once, maybe twice.
I’m not sure.
But now,
In this moment,
You are nowhere to be
Found.
Patience,
A virtue,
They say.
Consider me virtuous,
In such a case.
Where are you?
I’ve looked for you
In the arms of deceit
And flattery composed
Of the truest deception.
I wanted to believe you were there.
But no.
No, you were not.
You never are.
There are few things in this life
For which I feel deserving.
But you are one of those.
I give far more of you
Than I have ever received.
Perhaps I am not meant to.
I have searched for you
In eyes of brown and blue.
I have lived without want of you.
I have folded hopes of you
Into compact, sharp-edged shapes.
I have set them to sail
In the winds of the world.
Fear and despair
Have set them all ablaze,
The ashes falling upon my
Dejected soul and body.
I collect the ashes
Into a glass jar where they can always be seen.
Reminding me that for you,
I wait.
I wait.
For years I have waited.
Will I wait for many more?
Where are you?
A million miles away,
In a land to which I truly belong?
Next door,
Before me, shrouded in my oblivion?
I know not the day or hour
When you will enter here,
But I will wait
Patiently.
There is no other
Choice.
