You say wait,
But I can’t wait.
And I can’t tell you why.
I can’t tell you,
I’ve got holes in my soul,
The size of canyons,
because it’s not fair of me to expect you to fill them up,
But my god,
What I’d do to hear the sound of your voice echoing through them.
I can’t tell you,
That every night,
Loneliness wraps it’s hand around my throat,
And squeezes,
Tighter and tighter,
Until there’s no light left in my eyes.
I can’t tell you,
That I’ve been fighting to breath for so long,
That I’ve grown wary,
And hopeless.
I can’t tell you that you’re the thing I look forward to,
When I have nothing to look forward to.
Because I do look forward to you,
To your hands,
Your lips,
Your laughter.
But you say wait,
And I want to scream that patience is a virtue,
I don’t possess.
