Don’t sell me hope.
I cant wait with baited breath.
Don’t tell me there is hope.
The most hopeful i’ve ever been is always simultaneously the most hopeless.
My heart cannot withstand more
I, who is, as ever, on a cowards walk
skirting the ledge but never daring to skip over the edge.
I wish to be dead.
I wish to be alive but without the grindtooth dread.
This guilt that pins my flesh to my skeletal passenger
waiting beneath
with its toothsome grin
to be free.

And what of this world
is there left to bleed?
If there ever was?
No. I am almost certain
this world….we pin meaning to it, in the trappings of pithy sayings.

Only because our birth cannot be undone