Sunday, October 6, 2013

always waiting

For Magpie 189

I'm always waiting.
the right time.
The right time to pick up a pen
and write a story that will bring smiles to faces and tears
to eyes
but that time never really seems to come
so I stare at a blank sheet of paper and write nothing
because I can't get it just right.
rather than write anyway, I wait.

I'm always waiting
The right time.
The right time to finally start
keeping a journal of all the good things that happen
each day.
Like Doctor Williams told me to.
but I am always so tired, or can't think of what to say
Or I lose the journal in the black hole under the bed.
And rather than start again, I wait

I'm always waiting
the right time
to come out and say it.
as roommates or relatives talk badly about
with mental illness, or liberal leanings
because I'm itching to shout in their faces
That I am a Bipolar, asexual, liberal Mormon
so shut up already, talking as if I'm worth less than you
but rather than say anything, I wait.

and the clocks and calendars
 tick away, rip away
and I'm still stuck.
so many things

The right time never quite comes
count to three then strike.
no, count to five. twelve. one hundred
delay delay delay
but no more
no more waiting even though the time isn't right.
the right time has come and gone while I was busy