It\'s the waiting that gets you,
while you swim like crazy,
thrashing and kicking,
for the relief of the air
at the water\'s surface,
the waiting is the hand
that grabs your ankle
pulling you back down.
the waiting, while
you can see your life
veering ahead in two
very different directions,
the path to two futures,
the new job and that promotion,
house sale going through,
the doctor\'s appointment.
The week stretches ahead
as soulless and lost
as a rainy Sunday afternoon.
It\'s the waiting
the not knowing
the agony
the ache
the knot in your stomach
the voice that whispers in the night,
what if?
what if?