what...
you come home
and walk into the kitchen
you find everyone sitting at the table
knowing that they were talking about you
you can see it in their eyes
the pity the feel for you
they can't tell you
that gob in the back of their throats starts to swell and water their eyes
mom looks at you like your death on a rope
tied in a knot with no one to catch you
she tells you what you already know
you shake it off
she says more and your heart rips into a million pieces
not till december 2nd and perhaps longer
you fall on the bitter cold tiles that pattern around you
you breakdown and can't control the salty raindrops that fall from the heavens of your eyes
your makeup runs down your face like a marathon
nearing the finish line
brother stands behind you saying im so sorry
mom picks you up gives you a hug
and tells you to wash away dirt and sweat that you so dearly tried to keep inside
"things will get better"
but will they?
can i ever go back?
i hope so
so now you wait in pain and strife till that second day of december comes around
and even then you might not know
patience
do i have enough?
who knows?
i sure as hell don't
today u sat on the baseline
watching everyone do what you can't
can i take 3 more weeks of this?
can i sit and watch something great happen and not be apart of its miraculous being?
i don't want to wait
but its my fault
i shouldn't have acted tough
i shouldn't have waited
i shouldn't have taken the pain
i wasn't mentally ready and i don't think i will be
just wait
wait is all there is left to do
until waiting is an understatement
and you force that day to come
and walk into the kitchen
you find everyone sitting at the table
knowing that they were talking about you
you can see it in their eyes
the pity the feel for you
they can't tell you
that gob in the back of their throats starts to swell and water their eyes
mom looks at you like your death on a rope
tied in a knot with no one to catch you
she tells you what you already know
you shake it off
she says more and your heart rips into a million pieces
not till december 2nd and perhaps longer
you fall on the bitter cold tiles that pattern around you
you breakdown and can't control the salty raindrops that fall from the heavens of your eyes
your makeup runs down your face like a marathon
nearing the finish line
brother stands behind you saying im so sorry
mom picks you up gives you a hug
and tells you to wash away dirt and sweat that you so dearly tried to keep inside
"things will get better"
but will they?
can i ever go back?
i hope so
so now you wait in pain and strife till that second day of december comes around
and even then you might not know
patience
do i have enough?
who knows?
i sure as hell don't
today u sat on the baseline
watching everyone do what you can't
can i take 3 more weeks of this?
can i sit and watch something great happen and not be apart of its miraculous being?
i don't want to wait
but its my fault
i shouldn't have acted tough
i shouldn't have waited
i shouldn't have taken the pain
i wasn't mentally ready and i don't think i will be
just wait
wait is all there is left to do
until waiting is an understatement
and you force that day to come