Impatience

I’m waiting for the day when I’ll feel like I’m sorted,

When my hair will fall the right way and my lipstick won’t smudge.

I’m waiting for that perfect cup of tea.

For the day when I will walk the streets of Paris in high-heels and my feet won’t hurt,

when my footsteps will be loud but my head will be quiet.

For the coolest boy for when it’s cold or I’m cold.

I’m waiting for my friends to believe my high opinions of them,

To see them grow beyond what they think they can reach.

I’m waiting for the day when the money won’t matter because the matter will be that good.

I’m waiting to have a list of desires,

not obligations

events,

not preparations.

I’m still waiting.

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