Worry, Worry

Hours and hours I sit in wait;

Out the window, locked, my gaze.

With each passing motor I dreamt it was yours

Returning back, despite discourse.

My heart, it aches.

My mind, so sore.

My hands do shake;

Thoughts of the rip I tore.

Fear once baseless,

Now I've made tangible.

Lacking training, lest the races,

Makes for struggles, palpable.

Hope stays near,

Love held dear,

Few solemn tears

Having caused emotions reared.

Worry, worry,

What I do best.

If they're silent a bit,

They're gone for the rest.

Through trauma, or losing life,

Secrets shadowed, internal strife,

The signal received cut like a knife!

Lost, in danger, below reaper’s scythe?

No, lo, in my own fictions, writhed.

My own mind, once trusted, rapidly despised,

As I reluctantly push away what I hold most prized.

Familiar sounds and faces, I excite,

At a bolt of beaming light;

More loyal than canine, yet my stagnation, contrite...

When I meant to lick, blood trickled from the bite….

Through the gleam, what's that? It just might…

No, another not you, offending my sight.

I've been this way before

Yet, last it was composed under obsession’s score.

Now, the weight of disappointing a loved is fully bore

And I pray, oh I beg, soon what I hear is you at the door.