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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Waiting


I have almost (almost) perfected the art of waiting. It's become my hair shirt. My razor blade for hidden places, my drink that no longer gets me drunk.

It scratches at me...but I don't move. I sit. I wait. I hold.

9 screams:

Andrea Cremer said...

I see that patience plays the albatross for you as it does for me - hanging there, decaying, stench reminding me of its presence. Razor blades and strong drink take the edge of time's halting gait, necessary companions, but don't let them linger long enough to leave scars.

Tricia J. O'Brien said...

Killer picture. To be so beautiful while patiently disintegrating, breaking apart in silent scream...

glnroz said...

careful of the "waiting vaccum"

slacker-chick said...

You sound like me waiting for a bus.

Nevine said...

You describe the anxious, trying to keep it together, psyche so well. Thank you for joining my blog, and for allowing me to find out about yours. I'll be back for more...

Stephanie said...

I love that! I too sit, wait and hold at times. I hate when that happens though.

::She Poet:: said...

Ah "the art of waiting", until you eventually, gradually fade into its arms. This is thought provoking indeed. I sit, I wait. I hold....hold onto hope? I could dissect this in so many ways. I love writing that makes me think.

Can I tell how much I'm in love with your blog; the layout, design, everything! Thank you for joining. I look forward to reading more!

Secretia said...

Waiting and waiting will numb us in all the wrong ways!

Secretia

Yvonne said...

Love the image Suzanne...the scarf blowing in the wind and the straight back of the thinking, disintegrating? woman. Very cool blog...and did I thank you for joining mine?

My word is sinkati....isn't it odd, so often these "words" seem to match the post involved.