Hope, I’d look for hope
I’d look for hope
I’d scamper through lost dreams and fantastical places only my mind ever fashioned. Passed dignity and self worth and peace of my mind. Passed old fond memories of laughter, once so cherished memories of celebrations that got cut short by the force of reality, believing that life would turn out differently than theirs was...
Id go past all forms of motivation and drive, the will to conquer the day and strive for perfection. Shove the impetus to live and optimism about the future to the side as I thrust my hand deep down. Down beyond wholeness, beyond self love and everything good I ever believed about myself and the world. Because when tragedy struck, my eyes got awakened to reality and the fantasies my mind could ever conjure fled and all I had left was helplessness.
I wouldn’t mind that I went past living in the moment, and I chose to only see things for the darkness that outlined them and ignore the bright side. That I was passive about people who truly wanted to help me and see me for my worth than my past, their efforts would brush against my hands as I proceeded to this unreachable bottom in this box. This box that contained who I once was, or at least a self image I tried to construct outside what was really affecting me. What was changing me was probably external and the problem might be that I always thought outside the box, because now going through this box I realize I always had what I needed. So then I’d tip toe and extend my short sighted hand all the way down.
I’d pull out hope and look her in the eyes once again. I’d question why she left, why she quietened when the noise around intensified, why she couldn’t speak up when my doubts confronted my fears, why she wouldn’t be faithful enough to stand by me until the substance of her being walked into the room, but left before faith mustered visibility. This hope, I don’t know where she came from
...I hope that...wait!