The two of us sitting on a side,
You sipping on beer,
Me on your smile,
The space filled with comfortable silence,
The occasional, extremely rare,
Skip of a beat disturbing the harmony.
We think to ourselves in the dreary quiet,
What the moment might have been,
While we sit in anticipation,
You in your room, me in mine.

I wish I could sleep at will.
And then I wouldn't have to bear
The frustration and it's friends
Boredom, suffocation
and bottled shrieks for help.

I am not working.
I wish I could feel guilty

Sometimes I just get tired when I think of you,
I get tired of waiting and tired of the anticipation.
I try not to wallow in self pity,
And tell myself only one thing.
Being with you in my thoughts isn't half as good,
As being with you.