I sit here waiting.
Waiting for a friend.
Waiting to be accepted into your world.
Waiting for a love to sweep me off my feet.
Waiting for the end of my life.
I sit here waiting for no one particular.
Waiting for God to take me away,
waiting for the day I will die.
Waiting for the depression to end,
for the hopelessness to go away.
Waiting for the perfect moment,
the one in which I will take my own life.
Waiting for someone to murder me,
fantasizing over thoughts of my own death.
I sit here waiting to be understood,
in a world where I am not welcomed.
I sit here lonely, waiting to die,
wanting to cry.
