Another hour of boredom
Another day of impotence
Another year alone...
My waiting heart gathers dust
As my will slowly wastes away.
I shall again, if I must,
Brave the ugly light of another day.
I swallow my pill of bitterness
To face the world without a care:
My only companion is Loneliness,
My only comfort is Despair.
Commentary
This poem is too lugubrious and too much a product of garden variety teenage angst to be seriously considered anywhere. I wrote this shortly after I turned eighteen. You'll notice the theme of waiting in this poem, and it appears in many of my others. I was a closeted homosexual in middle America suburbia, but I was so sure that I would eventually essentially fall into a relationship with the perfect man. I had so much faith that one day my prince would come. But the waiting! The waiting for everything in my life to lock into place took such a toll on me. And the slow, harsh realization that reality would never and could never live up to my impossible fantasies became a foundation of my consciousness that echoes through my psyche to this day.
