There's something a little funny about patience. We're always promising ourselves that we will be patient. But here we go, doing things we said we'd wait for. We don't wait for nothing. Do we grab at opportunities with desire? or passion? or with selfishness? Longing for some attention, craving some affection, asking for some reason. It's killing us, we just couldn't wait until that day, and now it's stabbing us in the face. Oh how we've made a mistake. There's no going back, we wrote these promises in all the ink we had, and we can't make them disappear. How do we make them disappear?
We started to put out love to flames, hoping we could burn it out. Finding a way to forget about how we couldn't wait, about how we ran into this love and found ourselves at different ends. So now I sit patiently in the warmth of your chest, and in all curiosity, wonder if you do in fact love me back.
About the Creator
Namrata :)
just wanna be heard
ig: nxmrata
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Enough
I reminisce the days when my feet were above the sand and I was sitting on the swings. I sit there now, feet deep in the ground, drowning the thoughts of my childhood. Dug into the memories of the monkey bars, hanging on to the happy thoughts. The school bell rings, I didn't get a turn on the swings. Run back, sit down, and at the mere age of ten I thought about being good enough. I go home, thrilled to see my little sister and kick with her for a while. Baba didn't come home till late, slept without him most days. I caught a glimpse of him in the morning when I'd wake from nightmares of losing my mother. This was my life on repeat for years. Until I met my first lover and my first abuser. I couldn't differentiate between my dreams and reality. I still can't. I don't know what happened and what didn't.
By Namrata :)6 years ago in Poets
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