I will always wait for you.
I will be sitting on the off-white wooden chair in my off-yellow painted room staring at my off-color smartphone screen while I wait for your reply to a message I sent you fifteen minutes ago.


I will always wait for you.
I will still be standing by the table we sit at with all our friends at lunch 
twenty seconds after the bell has rung while you zip up your backpack
then walk with me towards class.


I will always wait for you.
I will be bending over the road, craning my neck to look for the garish yellow bus 
and your silhouette trudging up the hill but if I don’t see you in the next two minutes
slowly meandering down to look for you will be my next job.


I will always wait for you.
I will run over when I see your face all ******, body barely moving
lying on the road, then all of a sudden taken away I’ll completely forget today’s science test and 
run as hard as I can towards the hospital.


I will always wait for you.
I will remember that it has been ten years today and the feel tall grass tickling my ankles as I walk,
bowing their heads in sorrow. I’ll bring you a sunflower, the first one grown at the new house, then
sit beside your weather-worn stone 
and wait.

Love is not just a vow so light,
But a flame that endures the longest night.
Through drifting days and seasons wide,
Our hearts, unshaken, beat side by side.

Though time may weave its silver chain,
And distance sing its sad refrain,
Forever bound, through dark and blue—
I wait, my love, for only you.

Clouds form and fill the sky
Everything turns gray.
Still, there is no you.
You don't say sorry.
You don't say anything.

I walk outside,
Expecting to see you
At the very least, hear you
Rumble closer.

The sky is just as stubborn,
Refusing to move.
Here I am, outside
Head tilted back,
Mouth open, waiting for you.

Picturing your voice
Rumbling in the distance.
You don't say that you're sorry.
The rain still hasn't come

I'll wait in patience,
Until I see your face,
Until the next time I see you smile.
But I won't rush it
The way I feel.
I love the anticipation,
The way you give me things
To think about.

I'll learn to live through the ache,
I'll learn self-control,
And learn to hold still
Until the next time I see you.
The best stories are told
In pieces.
Not that there's anything wrong
With instant gratification,
Nonetheless,
Waiting allows that time between us
To linger and to grow.

So that the next time I see your face,
I am fully there,
Appreciative of that moment
A kiss that waits in the dark,
Waiting for the light of your lips.
Knowing that a week apart,
This kiss only grows,
Stretched thin, built in
Anticipation.

But I won't rush it.
Every episode is like this,
My favorite show.
If I were to watch all of you now,
Then there wouldn't be anything left.
So I choose to be patient,
My attention solely focused
On you.
Love moves slow,
Although some moments
Move fast.
There is always time to rewatch
And to think
But only after we've taken our time
And lived to do so.
I'll wait patiently
Until the next time I see your face

as I close my eyes I paint a picture.
it is you, again.
my pencils are filled with colour,
a perfect mixture

and it seems,
as if these shades
only exist in my dreams

I draw you, line by line
I play with the thought,
you might wanna be mine

I draw your skin,
you’re smiling eyes,
your chin

I draw the lips I’d like to kiss,
but what is this?

you’re not here,
not even close

and if you read this;
I am painting.
for you, 
I’m still waiting.

- gio

When you will go outside, find me
I am warmed with you
Lingering overjoyed for you
If you cant find at me
You keep ****** me in your heart
You can read my eyes
What is indeed requested to claim
Why I am smirking at you
Being you are there
Formerly occupying my heart and embracing my soul

Waiting for you is like
Being the passenger on a bus next to the window seat.
No matter how crowed it gets.
No matter the amount of stops the driver makes.
Being next to the window is the best seat.
Viewing the world inside out.
The nooks & crannies, a part of you that is rarely seen.
Being the passenger
Lost in thought.
Waiting for you gives a certain sensation.
The sensation that there is something to be had,
building great anticipation.
Giving a chance to sit back & reflect.
Thinking the thought of maybe if not this stop.
Maybe it's the next when the driver finally hits the air brakes.
Being the passenger next to the window.
Viewing the world inside out.
The nooks & crannies, a part of you that is rarely
seen.
But eventually every bus has to make it's last stop.
No matter how long the ride