Tuesday, November 9, 2010

waiting for bud

...thank god for advising day. i have today off but fuck it sucks not having a car. I have so much i need to get done today and no means of doing it. I want to start packing shit up and cleaning but i have no boxes. I need to get laundry done because i have NOTHING to wear...i really would like to get to the school so i can start writng my research paper and get that shit done...or even go to the gym for the first time in months....argh. i forgot how frustrating it is not being mobile. I hate being trapped in this house but i'm trying to avoid facebook so i can get a few things i want done, done. So...i wrote a poem today. Hooray for me.


waiting for bud


the anxiety knaws away at my insides
forcing up acid into my throut
causing paranoia to swim freely through me
nauseating butterflies that once flew graciously
now only cause a constant sickness
we sit in silence with no music as atmosphere
the humidity sticks to me and i begin to sweat
the combination of anxiety and heat
but you won't allow me to turn on the air conditioning
you eye your phone and stare off into the space
waiting

he should be here shortly
carrying a tiny plastic bag
with what we've been waiting
sitting in an elementary school parking lot
while i swish my head back and forth
nervous and afraid a cop will soon knock on my window
i didnt want to come along for the ride
but god only knows where you would have gone
or who you would have gone with had i not been here
the anxiety might have been worse if i sat home alone
waiting

with tears in my eyes i ask you
the same questions that has been repeated
all damn blazing hot, humid, intolerable summer
"will we make it when you leave for college,"
and you always respond of course
but your kisses always taste of beer
and your fingers always have weed clinging to them
so they feel sticky if you ever feel compelled
to run them through my hair
and when you leave for school i know all that i'm left with is
waiting

We'll have sex later that night
after our eyes are glassy
and a tired feeling tugs at me softly
you do it because now this is all i am good for
i do it because this is the only way you allow me to get close
our bodies are connected but we are not together in this act
after, you'll just smoke a cigarette out the bedroom window
while I'll lay on your waterbed staring at your childish starry wallpaper
and these emotions will continue to tug at my insides tommorow
when once again i will be dragged along
to wait for bud

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