Hurry up and wait

Blood rushing, keeping my insides warm; alive. You, I wish your skin would consider the thought of itself as a hot compress to my exterior on nights like this. Close, but I hate the smell of cigars. Oceans fill your eyes with the most envious color, so royal; smooth. I can see your wounds from here. Walls, not even the bravest of hands could accomplish such a height. Minutes have passed so facetiously amounting to years without reward. No pat on the back, just signs reminding the slow traffic to stay to the right. Loose ended strings hang before me, taunting. Where do I find this enlightenment? Knowledge? Toes creeping reverse to my heels. Rule of thumb having no suggestion prepared for what's to come. No agreement to disagree. Only a high dose prescription of wait. Impatient, to whom it may concern. Though, constantly even consistently tipping around on my toes top, would argue other wise. I need to find the directions to this reconstructed machine that lays seemingly imprisoned by your metal plated ribs. The mind responsible for this malfunction, who holds such instruction is no help to my resolution. Resolution? Resolution. I'm not even sure of the correct definition of this word. My memory left in days recently passed. Doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results; insanity. Lend me a hint on how to configure a proper execution. Eye lids heavy and ready to wait for the sun. Another day full of minutes prepared to pass. Oh, this road leads to no where.