But I wait for it.
How long must you wait for it?
I finished my painting earlier.
It's been so long since I've put thought into anything, and I thought this one through. You'll have to look carefully to see, because it's hidden.
After I finished the second layer, I thought maybe I should stop, because it looked good, without me fucking with it. But I kept going, because I wanted it to look exactly like it did in my head.
And now it's done.
I check on them like babies that have been put down for a nap, because I don't believe they rest peacefully in that dark basement.
I've got paint all over me. Purple streaks up and down my arms in the wrong places to be track marks, but almost the same thing.
This time I'm excited. Nervous, but excited.
You will see my heart before you ever see me.
How long must you pay for it?
And it's just how I said it would be.
I hate missing people. It makes me happy to be missed. Backwards, yes.
And I guess I haven't fucked this up yet.
How long must you wait for it?