You are waiting on a death wish,
You are impatient
But don't worry;
it will come in its own sweet time,
No matter how fast you drum your fingers
On my coffee table.

You once said that living was the hardest part –
So bored in the waiting, until you couldn’t help but
Do things, see things, whether magnificent or hated
You still sighed the same

You once said living was the hardest part
But after you arrived back home,
From what was now your
Seventh city of searching
You admitted you were wrong:
It’s the other way around.

I shrugged, because it’s all the same to me

I won’t admit that I bribed your demise to stay away
I met it in the car you would crash next month
Burning, your spine and ribs shattered
Your words faint and blood filled gurgles
On your split liquid red lips

I paid death to not, just not yet
It was a hefty price:
2000 bucks and five years of my own life

Because I’d miss you

When you’re at my doorstep,
Dripping rain onto the welcome mat

When you feed ducks and pigeons
The crusts of your lunch

The way you laugh at the tragic parts of films and don’t notice the rest of the cinema glaring at you

The way you make lists of the countries you would visit, the books you would read, but never what we need from the shops, and you always forget something.

The fact that you leave, but always come back

These are things that I admit to you, on this latest return.
After you’ve taken off your coat, hung it next to mine
After you’ve deposited your suitcase in the bedroom

So waste your time with me, while it’s here

I would be bored and waiting with you.