anxiety

it buzzes under my skin. the urge to move around. the urge to write. the urge to just do something. the detachment from reality – dawning a facade of “i don’t care” and “i am putting everything behind me” – was easy during the day. during the night, everything comes rushing back to me at

dream

i found you waiting for me in a dream.

waiting

clock’s hands are turningaround and around again,the time moves slowly

shards of glass

broken shards of glassembedded in her dark soulwaiting to be healed

still waiting

minutes pass, clock ticks,the breeze – tick tock – flutters by,sunrises, sunsets I suppose this haiku is more reminiscent of the terrible waiting that is going on in America. Still waiting… Who will come out on top? Biden or Trump? And, still, the ballots are endless, the clock keeps ticking, and the American people keep

knife’s edge

balancing knife’s edgewaiting for the final drop,final clap of doom.