A Waiting Poem

I held out for you and waited knowing there wouldn’t be a chance.

I held my breath and counted to infinity letting the game that was our lives play out.

I wrapped myself up in the anxiety that was quilted altogether from our love waiting for you to come around and take a notice of me.

The illusion that I had given myself to you was sickening me beyond my realm of existence.

How I had bent myself to your will like a tool with no spine.

I lived to please your every command.

You placed me on hold, the girl upon your shelf waiting for you to take a glimpse or remembrance of.

It became clear that your heart was not in place for loving me.

We were never meant to be and it hurt.

You had forgotten me till I had left your waiting game for a future that intended no chance of you taking a glimpse.

How your eyes had opened to my disappearance, one less girl worshiping your being.

Should I play this flawed game of yours or better yet let you see how it feels to be on a shelf waiting for the attention wanted?

I’m done with this stupid game that you’ve placed me in.

Being with you gave me anxiety and I couldn’t let myself rot in its bitterness.

I can’t subject myself to being tortured for someone’s self-relief.

The waiting game has reached its end and the sad girl has left the building

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