what I wrote at lunch

I'll beg You till my lips turn blue,
till my knees break down,
till I forget my name.

I am sorry for before,
for when I wanted to hold it,
I am ashamed.
This is the

worst
annoyance and I'd rather be as I am!
stubborn,
not needing what they say I need
but trusting You higher than the books, the friends, the songs.
Is there respite?
Is there removal?
I want to hear. I want to listen sharp.
If you would clear my mind of this,
start this fresh.
How many years will this loyalty take to dissipate?
How many months till I see hand in hand, hold despair on my tongue and wonder... --"for how long?"

How many days till a friend gets tired of waiting and announces she... thinking me fine, my stubborn heart so strong, that I don't care.
How many days till I am alone in this, and they are tired of comforting my agony and move in for their own pursuit?

Not that kind, but so much deeper,
so much more loyal. protective.

How many years till You tell him, till You show and he realizes?

How many of us will it take? How many of us will there be? How many more of those like me? Could we meet for lunch? for tea?