the yellow glow of the rising sun
gives me the gift of renewed hope
and gratitude for my breath and life
today

I long for the day where I wake up happy and I'm no longer coughing up the blood of the demon attached to my lungs. When the lurking shadow of depression is no longer keeping my head under water.

Memories burn my lips to ash, forcing their way down my throat.
Red rain falls from the clouds above my heart, tainting the pictures sepia.
I am choking on your love but it tastes like the hot, silver metal of rage.
Shards of my heart have found a way into my lungs.

We are always waiting.

John Lennon or someone on Facebook or God said:

"Life is what happens when you're making other plans."

Life is what happens when you're waiting, and soon you'll be dead.
That's what that quote says to me.

So I'll just wait for eternity
Quietly.

And if I'm in line at the grocery
or synching my phone
or whatever it may be

maybe I'll use the time to write poetry.

Leave my little mark,
help the world remember
that while I was waiting I was still
me.

you vandalized my body
with consent I offered
skin as canvas
my damaged heart
your muse

will I be remembered
as your worst creation
the strokes of bold colors
hiding the statement
you needed to convey

a truth so heavy

will the critics see me
as your worst creation
without knowing
how carefully you painted
every scar