Waiting Room at 10:03

you saw me wrong. upside down, like a bible turned over in the hands of a sinner. i saw you the way a dog sees a thunderstorm. head tilted, waiting for it to pass, or for the sky to split open. you in that gown, standing like a kid who just learned what shame feels like. i almost said something soft. almost reached out. but then i remembered what you said the last time i tried to be gentle. the waiting room had no colour. just beige walls and the ticking sound of time packing its bags.