I think the title says it all.
Posting my pictures on the internet is scary, and now I’m posting my writing. Excuse me while I go die of multiple fear-induced heart attacks.
The waiting game.
It comes uninvited, if not unexpected.
Moving from my stomach to my ribcage, it sits.
And waits – patient. Enduring.
No logic, or reason
No cajoling, good food, promises of hot tea
And nice people will make it go away.
I wait for it, expecting it on every street corner,
Hesitant to say yes, for what if it joins too?
I wait for it, tip toeing around the idea of a good month.
But even still,
It comes least expected.
In the middle of a week of calm and good it appeared.
As I lay in bed and gave in to it.
Until it decided that I had had enough
Until it decided that I should take a shower
Until it decided that breakfast, my lectures, my friends, my life
Were things that I should get back to, it waited.
And I waited.