Waiting

Walking with my head down against the cold, breath trapped by the wind otherwise.

Collar up, thinking of you, where I should go, and what I'm going to do

Waiting for a phone call that never comes, checking the light on my cell by the minute,


and it doesn't change, things don't rearrange, and I'm exhausted by it all

looking for the key to my smile, feeling my pockets and not knowing why

because motion is a thing to do, and a substitute for what to be


For when you're lost on your feet, you reach inside for a reason and a rhyme


Walking with my guard up against what may be, apprehensiveness puts some people off

Lord knows I don't mean it, pushing away those I wish to keep beside me

for my unsure personage doesn't know if I am capable of taking hold of them forever


and it doesn't change, this fear will not wane, and I'm frustrated by it all

looking for the door to release, feeling for my soul and not knowing why

because self-inspection is a thing to do, and a mechanism for what to see