a piece derived from lines of inspiration in my notesapp
Waiting for a bus that never comes,
Red lights blur into a single hum.
Whites of your eyes in the high beams gaze,
Fleeting hope in the lingering haze.
I ask the tarot, shuffle for a guide,
Though my answer’s rooted deep inside.
With you, I tremble; without you, I fall,
Lost in the silence that answers it all
I’m a boat docked firm on dry land,
Yet drowning fast where I stand.
The water rises, pulls me down,
A quiet gasp, a muffled sound.
The night is long, the wait is wide,
Fear is the anchor I cannot hide.
Still, I linger, between the tides,
Scared to leave, scared to decide.
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