If you were planning to kill me,
You would have done it by now.
So why do you keep me holding on?
Why do you still force me to do things,
Say things, be things
That aren't really worth the haste?
Why do you still send me to that wretched place
Where all I do is fidget and pretend
And wait for time to move faster
So I could breathe and relax.
Bear with it, you said.
A few months more, you said.
But what am I waiting for?
What am I really holding it out for?
I just hope things turn out better.
I just hope that when the time finally comes
That I have to let this go
That I have to risk it all
It'll be worth it.
I hope it'll be worth the nights I could no longer sleep
The minutes I cannot think straight
Because I'm anxious
Because I'm afraid
Because I'm unhappy
I hope the steel hollow sections
I weld together on computer screens
Will not be the cross
That I will die in
YOU ARE READING
Free Rein
Poetry"The human will, in its search for freedom of expression, becomes a self-destructive impulse." -Victor Terras Second collection of my poetry.
