Waiting Room, poetry written by Alexa Cleasby at Spillwords.com
Martin Lostak

Waiting Room

Waiting Room

written by: Alexa Cleasby



I can’t find the words to express,
this feeling of wanting, of being found less.
Breathe, pause, and repeat; we balance back on the wire.
Precarious and unwelcome, the stakes climb higher.
I struggle to speak past this lump in my throat.
I struggle to steer in this rudderless boat.
I want to fast forward until this time is past.
I want to scream against the die that was cast.
Or what if luck could be hard earned?
I’d work until my traitor body burned, stomach churned, anxiety returned, all just to see the tide turned.
The rain hammers hard and life feels unfair.
A life lived in limbo; a room filled with stale air.
Counting days, results and then onto a new test.
A hope crowded with questions; living one date to the next.
I’m already so tired standing out here on the edge,
I want to come down from this narrowing ledge.
The burden keeps building until the words need a voice.
We rail against a future that was never our choice.
Three AM; my thoughts are the loudest, my face washes warm.
Deep breaths instill calm and brace for the storm.
I know there are worse but let’s not compare hards.
There will be no winners, only splinters and shards.
The future is uncertain, a secret close kept;
eventually, soon, all I can do is accept.

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