
I’m waking in a panic,
waiting for what feels like years and years,
hoping this fire will quell,
praying for reconciliation
with a thought,
with a happening that hasn’t happened, yet.
The time is coming
and I’m dreading the opening of automatic doors,
the scents,
the small exchange of words before I leave you.
You’re too busy and I’m too late.
It’s a simple task,
made bigger than ever before.
Hold me close and confident
but we can’t remain
in a neverending embrace.
I need you but I’m working on not needing to.
It’s never a good time,
but the time is now
Now.




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