"Waiting.

From day one that's all I've done---waited on him.

I find myself waiting up during the night, watching numbers flash across the clock like beacons of misery.

2:00am.

3.00am.

5:00am and then I'm out of bed and on the porch, with a cold cup of coffee and cigarettes that taste too much like the metal of my father's revolver.

The thought of it all makes me want to run until my knees give out and he's the only one that can pick me up, cradling the shell of the very girl he lived for.

"just 10 more minutes please, just…" but he always disappears.

For chance, did I dream it all?

His quivering kiss, my broken heart, the choice?

And I'm covering my eyes so I don't have to see him bury himself alive, knowing that no amount of paper or guitar strings can save me; save us.

"so young, so fragile" my mother's searing words, as if I didn't know that I'm crazy for putting my life on pause for him.

Everything is at a stand-still; everything but tonight.

Tonight I reclaim a piece of what I lost, a piece so far gone that I thought only he could find it…

Tonight I stop waiting."

10:51am 1/17/2006