Hope

said deferred, is said to make the heart sick.

& I know a sick heart.

What do I call you when I need to hold on to

something in the darkness?

Answer: it can be anything but hope.

I know a sick heart.

Speaking of which, I spent the last twelve months

scrubbing you clean of bitterness.

Only to meet you at a crossroads: Hope.

In who? In what? God?

Ayiyiy.

It seems, the richness of life has been placed

into the boxes I dare not open inside myself.

It seems, I am the fool, time and time again.