#61 ·
Waiting now, waiting then
It’s always some sort of waiting
and I just can't seem to move past it.
Staring at test results
while anxiety crowds out any remaining headspace
Then I wait for the doctors' reports
just to see if the dread is coming back for more.
The days just bleed together while I wait for news
to see if everything finally settles where it should
And I find myself wondering, every single hour
why bad luck seems to have such a grip on me.
Where did my supposed optimism go?
The kind that was meant to ward off this darkness
In the end, though—I suppose I'll say this:
I’m still hoping for better days.