Witness

The waiting room had a clock,

beige wall, second hand that wouldn't stop—

I watched it tick-tock,

waiting for the shock.

You were in there.

I was counting time.

Each minute made me stare,

made me want to climb

out of this chair

and find you.

But I stayed there,

nothing to do

but watch the clock

move forward.

Nothing but the tock-tick-tock,

nothing forward.

The second hand moved

and I moved nothing.

It proved

time keeps going.

What good is a clock

when you're helpless?

What good is watching the clock

when you're breathless?

Minutes passed like hours.

I sat in the chair.

I had no powers

but to stare.

You were in there.

I was here.

The distance, the care,

measured in fear.