A Bloody Patience


A Bloody Patience

A Bloody Patience

I wait and wait,
with only patience for company.
Patience, that no good, annoying foreign exchange student
staying with you
that hardly speaks a word
of shared language,
or your kid sister,
worlds apart
forced to share the same air
and vowels and consonants
you have no say in.

I wait and I wait
for a crumb from a plate
to quench this overwhelming starved hunger in me.
Knowing pessimism and cynicismA Bloody Patience
runs across my palms
in all the lines
those palm readers squint at
with mysterious, money-hungry eyes,
with fingers that try to steal my future
for themselves
in the presence of my outstretched untrusting hand.
My eyes still sparkle with endless hope though,
like a creature blinded by the roaring strange 4 by 4 beast’s beaming lights
heading my way.

I wait and I wait
for the loss of silence to words,
reciting the script
my mind keeps redrafting
in the silences, the world keeps with me,
but nothing of what I want
comes from you.

The occasional burst of suggestion
makes my eyes sparkle anew,
my heart play cliche
and skip a beat
that has my fingers twitching
for the doctor’s number,
but stability returns
within seconds,
the bitter equilibrium is reestablished once again

and I’m left empty-handed
in silence alone,
with nothing but that bloody patience
waffling on in a foreign tongue
I have no time or sympathy for,
even when told it’s the language of love
cause he breaths not a word
of the letters your voice owns.

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Angie's Diary