Waiting Room Liturgy

Fluorescent lights buzzed, the drip slow and steady—

a rhythm I didn’t want but learned to count on.

I whispered a prayer nobody heard,

tongue tied in desperation,

the words heavy and empty.

No answer came, no sudden light, just the weight

of waiting, the cold plastic chair holding me upright.

That silence held me—strange mercy,

more solid than hope or despair,

a tether in the dark that didn’t snap.