The Waiting Room

It's silent, almost dead. Empty and hollow. Seems like I've been here for a million years, stuck in a repeat of waiting. It's always waiting for bad news. I never wait for the good to fly it's way to my ears. I tend to leave it behind. I've been here, in this same room before. Waiting on you. Waiting for your voice, but the difference this time;
It stays silent.
Should I still wait? What if you come out and I'm not here? What if you're waiting for me? All this time, as I sit in this small blue chair, listening to the sirens like a music box, winding up every few minutes to play again. Yet it seems silent.
I wanted to save you from the dark, but you would never give to me your hand to follow. I brought the sun to you once, but you turned away to play with the moonlight. As beautiful as the moon can be, it's loneliness in it's true form. Too slow to play with the stars, shut out of all the games, all the laughs. But you refused to leave.
I'd give up this life to see you smile just once. You used to. All the time. And it was beautiful. But now it's just....
A waiting game.
The doctor comes in now and again to tell me it's fine. But I won't believe it until I see you; hear you again. You've been so quiet for so long, it's almost deadly. I just want to hear your laugh.

I've spent a lot of time in the waiting room of a hospital. Each time, it's not like I'm waiting for bad news. Because I know that's what I'll get. So I always watch the walls, watch the people around me, listen to their stories. And wait for you. Someday, I know, I won't be waiting anymore. Either you, or I, will no longer be coming back from that back room.
Why can't I just enjoy the light instead of waiting for the darkness? My walk has slowed, my eyes grow dim. And I am forever left
Waiting.
For you to bring back the brightness in my eyes, or for the storm to take it all away for good.
Just...
Waiting.