Poetry 6.3


I keep waiting for that moment you read about in books,
when you receive bad news,
the heart begins to jitter, or sharp aches in the chest, or the inability to breathe.
So far bad news has been given, but with a small segment of hope.
My heart didn’t sink. But the easily curable options have been taken away.
It’s not a sudden moment.
It’s a collage of thought bombarding the senses,
what if, what if, if only, if only, if it is, if it is, if it’s not, if it’s not,
one damning question left – What can I do? –
all those unsettled cogs of thoughts funnel down to one single feeling – one word –

“Oh shit”.

Waiting for that moment.