Ti aspettaro'

Painstakingly For you I'll wait as day resorts to night.
As I sluggishly wake and remember I'm in limbo, I drag my body into auto-pilot and cringe as I consult the mirror revealing a reflection of doubt staring back.
Who am I?What the hell have I become?
Half a person,a shadow.
I wonder what colour my aura is?and how my energy is sensed by others?
What about all those courses I took and the self-help books steepled high in the corner gathering dust ready to be dispatched to amazon.com?
I hope at least someone will crack their codes.
I was trying desperately to detox my system of you yet once again,as always,I return,back to square one.
"Ok,make a mental note:everyday is a new day,you can be whoever you want to be,you can hold your head up high and imagine you are grandiose."
Forgetting my invisible cloak as I bustle out of the door and remembering that my healing crystals cannot function on a tray at the side of my bed.
I face the main road where all the cars stop at the traffic lights directly outside my home.
As they stare,I feel their eyes boring right through me with their x-ray vision detecting every dog hair that clings to my outdated winter coat and them thinking,"why is she wearing that in such sweltering heat anyway?"
Jolting into reality and trying to reason with my runnaway brain of conspiracies and paranoia I peak behind me to see if I'm being observed.No-one.
Debating with myself that I'm semi-sane as the voices I don't hear and imaginary figures I don't see,I certify myself well today.

Should I speak at work today?give my secrets away?again and again feeding ammunition to the soul stalkers who set their traps for the weaker ones.
I never learn.I tried not to speak but then they ask so many questions.
I always spill my truths thinking it demonstrates my sincerity yet everytime I just stitch myself up for incrimination,humiliation for them to pull out of the hat like a pure white rabbit when it suits them.
"Bam,gottcha!"that's my crime,honesty and it never pays.
I, like a bubble,no sense of protection,a body without skin.
It smarts and it stings when you realise the extent of the ruthless, conscienceless beings I am out numbered by and realise too late that my kind can't exsist in their world.
Then I think of you,my telephone lover who calls me daily to open up the gangrenous wounds of my past.
A cigarette break I yearn for as if it is water in my desert.
I count the hours to the time when I can hibernate and text psychics who seem to avoid giving me a straight answer.
You know you are on a steep slope when you're screaming out for answers.
It could be anyone but I gullibly swallow.
They say you will love me again oneday,is the time drawing near?
Is the crystal ball clear?
Or am I clinging to my security blanket of empty promises too tightly?
Sounds more than likely.