June 17, 2022

Where is this going?
Sat in threaded stills of joyed fear.
Patience heightened to point of overflowed froth.
Dressed to kill in threads of doubt

Where will this go?

Still it is, still in look and stance.
The wait comes to sustained end.
Will that time pop, that past pained dust

Where can this go?

Beiged walls and spotted curtains don’t calm the bodies rampant thought.
Nurses potter and check.
Doctors ask to go forth in battle.
The wait is more painful.
The pain of stillness is worse.
Stillness is the sordid bringer of fear.
But no more for now.
No more

Where will I be?

< The Wrong Pool

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