And
the days fade on, running into one an
other, as I
wait to hear from you.
Testing myself, forcing myself not to
cling parasitically at your heels.
Waiting.
Waiting as the spaces between the words grow. Watching the
transfer functions
decay to zero.
Fumbling nervously with my
shoelaces, and sifting through
the ebbing flow of a thousand beautiful memories.
I will be
here.
I will
always be here, Waiting...
(This isn't supposed to be a poem by the way. Then again it's not really prose either.)