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Hope
He liked to cower in the corner, but you know he’s there.
Dark, bony, foggy, naked, alone.
His sinewy arms grip like a machine.
His fears, manifest, like a hive,
Inside me. In the dark. In my mind.
Sometimes,
He likes to say he loves me.
He sais to be proud, have hope.
But hope is the most vicious of them all.
It’s when im laying in bed.
Alone, tired, vulnerable.
That he creeps out of the corner.
He gets inside of my eyes.
He blinds me,
I hope to see
From everything,
From you.
I can shake him off,
But I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.
I won’t need you.
I need you.
I want you,
I hope I can keep this up.
So I’ll live like this.
Scared. Depressed. Disguised.
It becomes worse.
He coaxes me into the bathroom.
He grips my wrists.
I hope for it to stop
Binds them
With a gentle touch, like a cloud.
But it’s a trick.
And I let him do it.
For you.
For me.
Here’s to regret.
Tomorrow.
Hope.
Hope I’m alive.
