I am always standing, waiting.
But for what?
There is nothing that sings
There is nothing that cries sweet.
They stare at me.
But only at me.
I stare, but my face is blank.
I don’t know where I’m going.
And they can’t tell me.
So I keep quiet.
What nonsense I spout is naught
It is of uninterest.
I sigh and hang my heavy head.
I continue to stare.
Now, but at my feet.
They ache from standing.
I ache from yearning.
Why couldn’t it have ended long ago?
Why did I never start to finish?
Frivolous is the air.
It brings to me
Things I wish I could see.
I am blind but I can so observe.
The fragrance of peaches and blossoms
They waft toward me.
I know my friend has arrived.
I hear the slap of shoes on concrete.
Another friend has come.
I turn around but there is a fork.
What do I choose?
I cannot pick.
There is nothing I can say.
I close my eyes but only darkness.
There’s never an answer.
I can’t rely on my eyes.
They deceive me.
I love them both.
I do not wish to leave either.
I do not wish to mistake.
But they are so different.
They sing both sweet and rare.
So I remain.
Why does love destroy me so?
I never dared to lie.
I wonder about those illusions.
Those half-baked lies that run
Not in circles, about my mind.
They call to me.
They are so sweet
I let them play as they like.
I miss them at times when I’m awake.
When I’m tired, they soothe me.
Strange or apologetic.
They all love me.
As I love them.
But like love, they tear me.
They don’t mean to, but it’s true.
I’ll never be without the night terrors.
Those one-is-one-too-many lot.
There is no good without the bad.
But how much bad must we face?
I’d wait forever to forget.
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