Words.

Waiting

I waited.

I waited for my heart to start beating, now I'm waiting for it to stop.

I've been waiting for a chance to speak but every time someone hands me the broken mic, I squeak.

I wait for him to speak to me with words I can comprehend and understand as coherent thought.

But my mind processes it as screaming. Just screaming.

The banshee of emotion is what he is and I've known that since the dawn of time.

I either waste my life waiting for his bones to agree with me or I walk until I can decide.

I'll wait until I make up my mind.

I'll wait until the violence stops and love comes raining down from the tree tops and the men and women gather to talk about why it is unsafe for them to walk freely.

I waited for the screams of the innocent to die down then I remembered that that means they're dying.

I waited for him to stop lying while I waited for myself to stop trying.

Stop trying to make him come back.

You're not magic.

You aren't some magical being that can pull hope out of your sleeve and continue about your days forgetting about the meaning of meaning.

Stop waiting for an answer to a question that will never exist.

You know that someday, you won't be missed and the months you spent trying to fix him was a waste of your time.

Stop waiting for your poems to rhyme.

Stop hoping that God is listening to your praying.

Stop waiting.