I will always wait for you.
I will be sitting on the off-white wooden chair in my off-yellow painted room staring at my off-color smartphone screen while I wait for your reply to a message I sent you fifteen minutes ago.


I will always wait for you.
I will still be standing by the table we sit at with all our friends at lunch 
twenty seconds after the bell has rung while you zip up your backpack
then walk with me towards class.


I will always wait for you.
I will be bending over the road, craning my neck to look for the garish yellow bus 
and your silhouette trudging up the hill but if I don’t see you in the next two minutes
slowly meandering down to look for you will be my next job.


I will always wait for you.
I will run over when I see your face all ******, body barely moving
lying on the road, then all of a sudden taken away I’ll completely forget today’s science test and 
run as hard as I can towards the hospital.


I will always wait for you.
I will remember that it has been ten years today and the feel tall grass tickling my ankles as I walk,
bowing their heads in sorrow. I’ll bring you a sunflower, the first one grown at the new house, then
sit beside your weather-worn stone 
and wait.