waiting

I shift between lightness and being…
as though it was the change from wine to beer.
Daringly and not without consequence!

I hand-ball my grudges to the back of the room
and watch them bounce off the china-ware.
Shattered attempts aching to become a self-indulgent mosaic…
I crush teacup handles beneath boot as I head for invisible doors.

Met with missing door handles
I poke my lips through and holler for attention
“Feed me”
“I’m bored!!”

White-jacket nomads pace the corridor
as though they have somewhere better to be!
So I weep a little,
but tears can’t be heard through door handle holes.

“Time to start digging!”
I announce aloud
and the whistling winter
acknowledges my thoughts from beneath the door.

It’s the waiting I could never stand!