I wander our old lives, I take the train I always took to see you, I pass the pancake place we never went because it was always too busy at brunch time,
and the teriyaki place we went instead that was surprisingly good considering it's emptiness.

I see the Kia dealership I waited in front of, not knowing you were waiting for me a block away on a charming main street.

I see the Mexican treats place where we got deliciously odd flavored paletas, and the pirate golf where we ate mediocre pizza and giggled at cheesy glow-in-the-dark pirates.

But you are not here. You do not greet me at the transit center.

While I revisit old memories, you are exploring our future. You are walking streets we may walk together. Perhaps you are passing restaurants that will become our favorites, a park where a momentous decision will be made, the locations of disappointments and joys
yet to come.

Despite the traffic and obvious signs of habitation surrounding me, this place is a ghost town to me.
It's not for me anymore.

My present is a limbo between nostalgia and anticipation. My future is with you. I'll join you soon.

Anticipation keeps pulsing at me
When I want something to be
The surge of excitement is like a drug
I keep wanting it, like a mug

The next job or party event
The next high or personal descent
The next meeting or social entity
The next considered expected positivity

The event goes by
It really did fly
Anticipation fades
The outcome rarely makes the grade

somehow
I was a mystery
   To you

But I was a broken piece
   A tired soul
     feeling unease

I closed doors
  windows
built fences around my home

all I wanted was control
  Of the car
   My life was driving

and wasn't it nice
      every other sunsets
   a shadow beneath the surface
we collided

a disruption
    my routine gone
anticipation
   and back to drama

It was uncontrollable
  the fifth gear
    I am scared

The wind flying my hair
    car radio, top volume
it was going too fast

   It was beyond
me, my white fences disappeared
and my living room couch is occupied
        Why cannot I stop this mess

Soon it will be too late
   A repeat of fate
       Or maybe this is not a mistake?

You aren't entirely charmed to being whipped, if you don't take a moment to see what being merely "whipped" is even about. Showboating a charmed effect for something other than something else to "whip" itself back into shape! Lust! Ecstasy! All charmed effects without anything being whipped normally. When being whipped by a single charm defies ALL expectations for normal anticipations to fall prey to. Creating a very frustrating hypnotism functionality. Whilst also creating a very flustered trance that none can escape alone!

And if all I get is just one kiss
let me color it with truth.
The anticipation on my breath,
the moments that I've dared to dream.
My tongue laced with flavors of desire,
for the times you've left me wanting more.
I'll nibble your lips,
and then a little harder,
the ache I feel when you're gone.
My lips on yours a whisper,
screaming the truth between held breaths
and words I choke on.

You showing up after years,
How is it going to steer?
Thinking of which, I go insane,
Will you be the same?
Will you look at me with the same intense eyes?
Again, singing the beginning of a thousand new dreams.

anxious heart made sick
anticipation postponed—
beware second wave


© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.

Sometimes there’s peace
in this restriction,
you get gifted a lucid
memory trail that you can wander
with a heart that sings back
to the echoes within

At other times it’s fibreglass
or vitriol under the skin,
prickle-burning every thought,
flaring angered embers
that refuse to chill

It’s a sickness
that infects our wishes
and snuffs the daily ebb and flow
of our earned minutes
as we yearn for the next high point
where we can
just
let
go

No escaping
this fickle, clumsy spectre,
just a recognition
that its patience wears as thin as ours
and it will pass