We're sitting in the waiting room again

Another kid is crying, another western is playing, 

I’m getting tired of these dingy grey chairs

We check your Facebook page, talk about the news

Don’t even say it

I know my breathing is too shallow, and I’m struggling to catch it, and I’m always winded

My chest feels tight

I just want to go home, to my room, sleep off the pain

But here I am

Sitting in a waiting room again

So I just ask for a sprite.

The receptionist gossips, you bounce the baby on your knee

And I’m still trying to breathe

Doctor asks me if I’m anxious, that I seem like the overachieving type

There are drawings of stars on the walls, I point out the planets to my baby girl

And I, in between gasps for air, mutter a prayer that my sister doesn't end up like me

My throat is closing up

You hand me the inhaler, but it doesn’t do jack shit

You hand me the inhaler, I can’t even draw in a breath

And here we are

Sitting in the waiting room yet again

The clock is ticking, never stopping, and we don’t know what the hell is wrong with me

They scan my chest, my shattered chest, and find nothing

Here in the waiting room, I say one more quick prayer, hope I mean it, and I realize the irony in this

I tried so hard to die when I was younger

But now, when I’m ready to move on and live again

My body has finally decided to give up and give out

I laugh to myself in the waiting room

The oxygen is gone

Because there is nothing left but the clock.