Waiting.

I can hear the ticking
of the clock above my head
impatiently mocking
the fact that I have become
a fool for your love.
Silent like a waiting room,
my thoughts are the only
whispers I hear in the
silence of your absence.
The replay of your voice
moaning my name.
My heart still misses a beat
when I hear from you,
my fingers still scream
to feel curve of your neck,
your head in the palm in my hands.
Time doesn't wait for any man,
so why am I not as precious
as the thing that ages us in life.
the thing that manipulates
our feelings
our actions.
I'm waiting for the clock to scream
out that you love me,
that you want me.
But when I feel closer,
time just pulls us farther apart.
I'm running out of seconds,
my minutes have lost their value.
I'm still waiting for our hour.