If I had realized,

that I was hanging hopes for nothing,

dreaming of dreams in plural instead of singular.

If I had been myself.

I would have re-defined the art of solitude.

Instead of extending my boundaries of patience

for one person.

Testing my self worth on whims

of fickle personality.

I sold myself out a long time ago

for a chance.

A chance that was never a true chance

at anything.

Now, again, I am in the waiting space.

And I don't want to wait.