(Not) Soon (Enough) This Too Shall Pass

Just wait,

wait.

waiting is all it takes.

Soon it will be over.

.

The triggered spots on me hiss.

They wish they could bite.

If what my mind sees,

were reality,

my body would then be

full of spiky bumps.

But that would not be

socially acceptable.

.

Waiting

sucks.

Maybe I should make

a countdown?

.

No, then that would

engorge “it” (the problem not allowed a name).

If I acknowledge it

I may be apt

to explode.

.

Waiting

is not as fun as what I could do.

Waiting lets the status quo stick.

But would an explosion

even change that?

.

Every touch,

every off word lIl every word

makes my rage hit boiling

point.

But I remain silent

and it comes harmlessly

out my ears.

.

While waiting,

my eyes cut through the air

quietly.

No worries.

I cannot mess this up

.

~

.

The person in the other chair,

finally unrolls themselves from the seat

and blessedly

walks out of the room.

.

But the camera in the corner

remains on me.

No sigh of relief allowed.

I must remain

socially acceptable.

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