*I spend my days waiting for night to come,
And nights awake waiting for day.
It’s a hopeless conundrum,
Like waiting for a flight in permanent delay.
My bedroom has become a terminal
Where tungsten lights seep through tearstains,
Where happiness is a criminal
On the run from your grenade.
I’m waiting for your satisfaction
Your smirk of approval, your disdain,
And all I get is a kiss from your shotgun
Blown off, blind-sided once again.
What’s another day to me
One step closer to being depraved
Of meaning, of purpose, of distinction;
I’m just another patient face.
I’ll wait.*
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
*I spend my days waiting for night to come,
And nights awake waiting for day.
It’s a hopeless conundrum,
Like waiting for a flight in permanent delay.
My bedroom has become a terminal
Where tungsten lights seep through tearstains,
Where happiness is a criminal
On the run from your grenade.
I’m waiting for your satisfaction
Your smirk of approval, your disdain,
And all I get is a kiss from your shotgun
Blown off, blind-sided once again.
What’s another day to me
One step closer to being depraved
Of meaning, of purpose, of distinction;
I’m just another patient face.
I’ll wait.*
