hospital waiting room

the air felt unsurprisingly murderous
i am now sitting still
in an empty hospital waiting room
my grandma’s appointment is at 5
and we got here pretty early
a hard pass to let my current read a pass to kill time
and stab seconds into minutes and hours
wouldn’t it be depressingly ironic
to publicly read the book about suicide in this particular place?
so i gave these ghost town like lines a life
and maybe i’m just one of the bees in your beeline,
but you’re just a line in a poem i wrote for fun
while waiting in queue with other impatient people
whose conversations almost become a subtle noise
not that i pay any attention to what they’re saying
i’m sorry i just need the distraction
so the thought of picking my dry crusty lips
could vanish to some kind of blackhole
somewhere!! somehow?
violently shattered, exploded
consumed in flames
now how’s that make you feel?