pushing through those heavy wooden doors,
flipping through the same magazines,
and entering that sterile waiting room,
we thought he was gone.
It didn't bother me anymore
that the doctor spoke too loudly
or that the office only served coffee
instead of cold water or even tea.
Laughter ensued and we were happy again.
We joked, laughed, but deep inside
I wondered if this was too good to be true.
An annual scan finally caught the fellow
lurking hiding burrowing itself
in the bones of the best man I know.
Laughter soon becomes more forced
and the usual how are you hangs with a sense of dread.
The doctors are suddenly speaking too loudly
and the waiting room is too sterile for your liking.
The guest had returned without permission.
Do you think if it had feelings it would leave?
Do you think perhaps
...it would have never come at all?
