~Waiting~

Cut open my arm and watch
trying to see how long
it takes to bleed
out dry onto
the floor
where
I sit
here alone and
waiting, watching eager: does
that make me sick, maybe?
Or is it perhaps more normal
than they care to admit,
because I think that they
know somehow within
that they
do
the same
and sit inside
that safe little world
watching, and waiting with a
smile for that last drop, that
last lovely bit to flee
and leave them empty,
the same as
I am,
waiting.

~(c)June 2000 The Mad Poet (A.K. LaBelle)