Waiting

May 10, 2009
I hate waiting
I’m the type of person
Who taps their foot behind you
When the cashier or old lady in front of you
Is slow
It’s not that I’m a snob
It’s not that I’m impatient
It’s just that every second
Of being all alone
With my anxious thoughts
And my impulsive mind
Makes me afraid
Of the things
My brain decides to do
It’s not that I’m a total jerk
It’s not that my parents raised me wrong
It’s just that feeling of adrenaline
When it courses though my veins
Out of my heart
And into my soul
It makes me worry
About next time
When I have to push father
For that rush
It’s not that I have something against you
It’s not that you’re playing 20 questions with the cashier
It’s just that growing, expanding void
That swells and protrudes
Outward, from all around me
And swallows up everything
In a filmy layer of gray
And keeps reminding me
Of how all alone I am
To alone even
To be one of those creepy cat ladies
It’s not that I’m in a bad mood
It’s not that I think I’m better than you
It’s just
I hate waiting
Because all those moments
Trap me
With myself
And I’m afraid
Of what they make me do





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