Anticipation

-enjoy-

 

This will only hurt a bit

The callus doctor says,

Needle poised,

Waiting.

I’m anticipating

The heartache that is sure to come;

Brought forth by people with fake smiles,

Beards, and bowties.

 

What’s worse, we wonder.

Expectancy?

Or surprise?

Well, surprise, of course,

She answers with a laugh.

 

You stupid fat b***h.

What could you know?

A lover away, across miles,

You waiting dumbly for their return.

He was a friend.

You were happy;

With your pretty mother and real father.

Friends and stories and big houses.

You were depressed, you say?

You know nothing of depression.

I know.

I know.

I know.

My magic carpet ride shouldn’t be over,

Yet it’s being ripped from beneath me;

From beneath my not lighter than air body.

 

Dread that fills every inch,

Every hole.

Greasy water in a yellow sponge;

Soaked.

Full.

Dripping and leaving its trail.

Hazel and Gretel’s trail of bread crumbs;

Back to their evil stepmother

And their cowardice father.

 

Anticipating pain.

Waiting for the grip;

The vice on your lungs,

To be tightened.

To be twisted to unknown points.

The agony intensified, imagined, multiplied.

 

Please, don’t go.