waiting

I sit
I wait
I fiddle
I fidget
I rearrange my legs
I lean
I slouch
I experiment with sliding
to the edge of the chair
without falling off
I stare at the floor boards
I stare at the ceiling
I jiggle
I tap
I run my fingers through my hair
they get stuck
I spend some moments
detangling
as much as one can
in a waiting room
without a brush
I pay £4 for an hour of wifi
with an air
of quiet desperation
I Facebook
I Twitter
I instagram a photo of a chair
I play pointless games
I get frustrated
I read the news
I get depressed
I scream silently
and write a poem
entitled
“waiting”
and
I’m
still
waiting

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5 Replies to “waiting”

  1. I dunno Blue, I may love this because I feel the desperation and the tinge of madness that makes me go, that I shove into everything I write. But I love this poem, there is no doubt. This was fantastic because it was so real.

    Liked by 1 person

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