of panic and deadlines

Will you stay awake with me,
Till I finish this tonight.
Will you hold my hand throughout,
And remind me it'll be alright?

The Hitchhiker's guide has this character who goes about from planet to planet, abusing specific people, and then marking them off his list of people-to-be-abused. I just realized that I have a list too, scarily long, of people I want to say sorry to. Furthermore, I can't track these people down, and it would take too long to explain all that I was sorry about. Lists. I just wish one could get them done with.

Today I ride the 22
Like I've done through this week.
I prefer the rickshaws, I could walk too
And yet I do this, I am that weak.
But I hope to run into you.

The chattering women, loud and unstopping
The runny nosed children, the babies bawling,
The fishmonger with her fish basket dripping,
I face them all for you.

I who never noticed them before,
I who had eyes only for you.
Filtering out your voice from the traffic's roar,
I once loved to ride the 22

They bother me so, these noisy women,
Why don't they stop? Why do they talk and talk?
Why on earth do they all stare?
Can they sense my inner despair?


All this I do for you.

Yes I still do ride the 22.
But that is all I'd do for you.

---
Originally written on 9/17/07

My first sonnet, all suggestions and rephrasings welcome :D ...

----

For months, even years, this moment I awaited,
Asleep or awake, in my dreams, night after day
A million times each scene I've rehearsed,
You ruined it all, it wasn't supposed to be this way.

My hair's uncombed, my face unwashed,
I've looked better many a day,
A million chances you let slip by unused,
Why did you have to pick this moment, this way?

The train is waiting, my bags have been packed,
That lucky shirt I owned, today I gave away,
New plans I've drafted, the old have been trashed,
What right hast thou to ignore them this way?

Mistake not my tears though, nor what I do not say,
My silence says nothing, but I like it best this way.