timing is a motherfucker.

Timing is a motherfucker.

10-15 min late

To life itself?

Everything I thought would be?

Well, it isn’t.

What if

fashionably late

fucked me?

Changed the fabric

of what was supposed to be?

As if we’re so important.

A new man made me dinner

Said don’t stress yourself

about getting over here

It will be perfect timing.

Enough to erase what could have been?

All the fiction I’ve written in my mind?

The chills down my spine

whisper maybe.

For the first time

in a long time

I let

a question mark

have the freedom

To become a dream