The Turning Face of Hope

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Dipping

Drowning

Sputtering on uncertainties
A world full of decisions

Are they really mine to make?

How much have I destroyed by merely touching?
or daring to glance?
by simply hoping?

Hoping is the crusher of dreams.

It comes in, radiant
and fills the room
like a million falling stars
twinkling with assurances
"all will go as planned".

Forgetting
as you bathe in its luster
that hope is cleverly disguised as

Maybe

It flips and turns like coins

fortune does not always
favor the brave

Fortune favors the wealthy.

Hope is vengeful and unforgiving.

It tears you asunder
when it changes its name.

Maybes echo in my ears
deafening and somehow silent
Screeching when the name becomes
"No".

For plans that are laid bare and broken

Shattering

into pieces far too small
to gather up and make whole again

I have pulverized everything I've loved
With the weight of my longing.

My greed.

I am the idle and complacent creeping black
that makes that coin to spin.

In the shadows of mistakes and miscalculations
Resentment will surely flourish.

For myself.
And all these precious things I've broken.

For these things I could never afford.

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