10:34pm, may 10 2018.
and despite myself, i will wait for him to call.
i'd wait for him all night;
i think at this moment, i think
i could wait for him all my life.
as the hours hit new numbers,
getting later and later into the night,
i wait more urgently than ever
for any message, any call,
anything to my delight -
but i fear even still,
despite how recent the events have been,
he's moved on already,
so he won't answer me until
in the mornings
i wait again,
until he wakes up to say hello,
it feels like we're still in this, doesn't it?
and desperately i wish we were.
yet, i worry on weekend nights
that he will fall apart or fall in love -
neither good for me,
only one good for his heart;
yet, i'm still searching for the latter as well,
(i guess it's unfair of me to not want you to move on)
but i can't just yet,
i think i love him,
i know i have, will i forever?
YOU ARE READING
do you think he sees me as just a pretty face?
Poetrysad sap space babe poetry, 2017-2018 'cause writing it out is medicinal. do you think all he sees is a pretty face, or is that too conceited of me to say? at this point maybe that's the best that it gets.