by Kathy Buckert

I’ve waited for the possibility I’d change, not for me but for you.
I know who I am, I accept it.
But I also know who you are and you don’t.
Now, I am waiting for you to see I am divinely created.
I am waiting for you to see I am fearfully and wonderfully made
I am waiting for you to see past my ugliness,
the madness that creeps into your healthy mind.
I am waiting for the infinite possibilities of my moods to
stop raging against your black and white reality.
I am waiting for the deepness of my despair to
stop leading you to your booze and video games.
I am waiting for my mania and moments of exultation
to stop creeping into the center of your utmost fear,
simply because you cannot control it.
I am waiting for you to see the beautiful me, not on the outside
like a trophy on the mantle to admire or to have on your
arm admired by your friends.
I am waiting for the fulfillment of my lingering desires, an anticipation
constantly postponed because I am lost in the chasm of your longings, not mine.
I know who I am. Now, I am waiting for you to see the prettiness of my soul.
To be the man who took me for better or for worse.
To stand by my side when the storm rages inside me.
To love the moments when I am rapturous.
To pull me up out of the depths of my despondency.
Now I am waiting for you to change, not me.

IMAGE: “The Hesitation Waltz” by René Magritte (1950)/


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kathy Buckert holds a Master’s Degree in Education from St. Michael’s College in Vermont. She also holds an M.F.A in Creative Writing from Goddard College’s low residency program in Plainfield, Vermont. Her work has appeared in Stories: The Magazine, The Barefoot Review, Riverlit, The Blue Hour, Black Mirror Magazine, Electric Rather, and other publications. She is an adjunct assistant professor at Monroe Community College in Rochester, New York.