I sit, waiting…
The moist, gentle breeze rustling the leaves beside me
My only friend in this cold, concrete prison

I sit, waiting
My eyes wander over the stark, white-washed walls
Embellished with glistening, pointed wires
They encase my body, holding me captive

I sit, waiting
The hands of the clock, they tick and they tock
Around and around, spinning and turning,
They will not wait for me
Time waits for no one
Yet still, I wait.

I sit, waiting
Waiting for this loud, never-ending silence to devour my being
And take the last breath of life, killing my sanity
Setting my psychotic soul free.

I sit, waiting
The voice inside my head whispers softly
It breathes poison and I give in to its toxic fumes
Slow footsteps approach

I sit, waiting
I feel the touch of warm pulsating hands circle my neck
I feel the heat of soft lips brushing my cheeks
It shoots a spark of hot electricity rushing through me

We sit, waiting
I turn and look into demented eyes
We both hold hands
Both of us live in this cold, concrete jungle
Waiting to set our psychotic souls free…