Time
She waited longingly, time was her friend.
She wanted to see his eyes.
His soothing and his fire.
It couldn't come with less haste.
And yet it could come in the present.
She waited patiently, time was her solace.
She wanted to hear his words.
His calmness and his rage.
It couldn't come any quicker,
And yet it could come at any moment.
She waited nervously, time was her enemy.
She wanted to feel his touch.
His tenderness and his wrath.
It couldn't come soon enough,
And yet it could come in an instant.
Posted Jul 22, 2022, 7:10 PM UTC
I like how you decided to use repetition: often times it comes out as lazy. Not this time.
agreed especially how the repetition is off the characters pronouns, it really gives a personal touch to the poem and really helps to portray an unhealthy obsession along side the juxtaposition throughout
I didn't feel it as an unhealthy obsession. I was thinking more about how love can be so fulfilling sometimes that it can literally become how you measure your time away.
Thank you both for reading and for the comments.
I love that you both found something different in my poem, to me that is what art should be, something to the creator and any number of different things to the viewer.
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