Whisper to me, on bended knee:
tell me it will all be over soon.
I need it to be over soon.
I am battered and bruised,
marred by thbut it is not the pain I fear.
The pain, I have built myself to handle.
It is the waiting that murders my heart--
it is the waiting that shears what is left.
Kill me!
At least
while I am still me.