shower

I've been waiting for so long.
9:20.

I try to discern what I feel
with the realization that my actions
are dictated by the hands on the clock.
It's been pouring, the heavy droplets
of precipitation are oddly quiet.
The cars zoom by though,
with the people coming in
and out
and in
with such a hustle, while
they try to be politically correct.
guarding their curled in locks
under hideous garage backs.
but they can be blissfully ignored
if you just watch the illuminated hard rain
under the light of the lamppost
They are just asking for attention
desperately.

I've been waiting for so long.

they can't run away.
I don't want to run away.





I don't want to run away, dear.