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Playing the waiting game
Each one dancing around the other
Uncertainty building like a storm cloud with each passing
Second
Minute
Moment
Is this real?
Was this whole thing a child's game
Cat and mouse?
Crickets sing their song to the moon
Cars pass
The empty parking lot bathes in street lamp glow
What happens now?
Waiting for someone to show up for a first-time meeting is a feeling that puts me on edge. So I thought I'd write about it.
One day,
I woke up and felt
an elusive growth
inside of me.

Something is growing wings,
wanting to fly with joy.

Nauseous,
I wrapped my arms around my own body,
for I am still scared
of heights.

— The End —