Hope

what it feels like

and i've always wondered what it  would feel like to be chosen. To be pursued by someone sincere and true. because all the homes I visit were a temporary shelter that i thought were permanent. all the flames i burned were fading candles that i thought would light me up.

and i've always wondered what it felt like to be held. because all the hands i held were just forced grips that i thought would hold me forever. the road I walked was a borrowed path that i was destined to give to someone else. and i've always wondered what it would feel like to be held by the hands that would never go.

because all my life i've been a temporary; a maybe; a not sure; a guess it's the one. and not the one I would choose. and love. and stay with. and hold. and love a million times over.

and i've always wondered what it would feel like to be stared at. with a gentle look. with a defeaning silence – the quiet and peaceful one. to have the hands trace every part of my face. to have the lips that would kiss away my worries and fears.

because all my life i have always received a farewell letter and not a love letter. i have always told how immecably great of a writer i was – and not a person deserving of a plot twist of a true love.

because all my life i have always been the second; the last; not the first one to cross their minds before they sleep at night. not the first one to pursue and chase and choose and love.

and i've always wondered what it would feel like to have something to grasp onto, and not have something to walk away. because all my life i have always been the receiver of pain, and lessons, and crying and chaos. And i have never been the staying, loving, choosing, and loving a million times over.

and i have always wondered what it felt like to receive red roses out of a symbol of romantic love. because all my life i have always recived a rose on the surface, but lethal thorns beneath it. Quick to lure you, charm, and captivate you until you wither like a dying flower. like a seed decaying and not having the chance to blossom, to live.