i wait again

with the same intention.

i hope again.

in and out i exhale

leaving and breathing

out an invisible trail

of anxiety.

 

every inch inside of me-

every minuscule, minute molecule-

is waiting

for the day, the moment, the time

that i am done waiting on this line.
 

i’m ready to check out;

i’m ready to leave.

but i refuse to do so

if you’re not coming with me.

i wouldn’t be able to take the heartache

if all my bubbles and plans

would burst and break.

and, my friend, they are all in the palm of your hand.

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