Woman of Patience
A lifetime of waiting;
waiting for something not quite tangible.
A phantom desire not quite opaque.
Do your bones ache
because they are not your own?
Does your blood boil
because your heart is not your own?
Woman of patience,
how much longer will you wait?
It is the hottest summer of your life
and all the trees are ablaze.
Your eyes aren’t quite as brown
as they used to be.
They are dull and red
as they watch.
Do you like to watch
the violence of the trees
to ignore the violence
of yourself?
Woman of patience,
how much longer will you wait?
You sweat
and you sweat,
but the summer is too cruel.
Do you await winter,
or for your sweat to evaporate instead?
To do it all again,
is that what you await?
Woman of patience,
how much longer will you wait?
Until your heart
which doesn’t beat for you
turns your blood into dust,
or
until you shed your skin
and all is left
are bones
that do not
belong to you?
They ache no longer
because you are no longer
there to feel.
The writer is an A-level student aspiring to become a professional writer.
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