Bus stop Bus Stop
Your whereabouts unknown
Every morning I look forward to
My time spent alone
I listen to my music
As loud as it can go
But where is the bus?
Nobody knows
I know the entire route
Potholes and all
When will it get here?
I can't stand being stalled

I gaze at the time,
it's eleven fifty-nine.
I won’t sleep tonight,
when I got you on my mind.

I'm waiting for something that's not to come
Like waiting for the end of war
Like waiting for the end of greed
Like waiting for the end of corruption
Like waiting for the end of poverty
Like waiting for the end of pollution
Like waiting for the end of misery
Like waiting for the end of injustice
Like waiting for the end of this eternal cycle

Maybe if I had looked for you,
Thought this through,
You´d have come by,
I´d have caught your eye,
You´d come around-
Finally we´d be bound:
A heap of cold bones,
You´d find headstones,
My flesh so long rotten,
Just like always, forgotten.

I know what we have isn't gone

Because if it was

It would have stopped hurting

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.

When the drop is steep
And stomach needs filling
Not wanting to let you down
That feels unavoidable
Chasing affirmations for myself
Want to wake up earlier
Just tend to fall asleep late
Started to notice the flowers more
Maybe because they have blossomed
Doesn’t always feel like that
Winter dragging into spring
Autumn death apart from living
Feeling tired spiralling out of control
Back inside the same confines
You used to spend when you were young
Still very much the same kid
Just with a growing responsibility
Weighing heavy upon my chest
Armour which protects and limits
Trying to break the chains which jangle
Feet dragged walking the city streets
Wanting to say hello rather just rake the leaves
Go about my work in silent peace
Enjoying the solitude of the garden
Tired of not crying would like some tears
Weeping like a child loses its appeal
As you realise what you have to do
Need to take the initiative and start living
Make something of myself

Standing alone- waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.

Waiting till my hair turns gray.
Waiting till my brain begins to decay.
The amount of time I wait is minuscule compared to the time I will spend with her one day.