this life of love

Easy Hope

I am not easy. I am hopeful.
Hopeful that if I am willing, you will be willing as well.
Willing to give it a chance, for you’ll never know what the future will tell. 
A hopeful romantic, I know.
However, it’s not my fault, I was born so.
So what if I am the one? What if you are my impending I do?
I am willing. Won’t you attempt to be too?
I giving you myself in hopes that you will do the same.
What is the difference between a month, a week or a couple days?
I am willing to ignore the faults and open my heart. This heart, fragile and unclad.
I am not asking for much, just for you to do your part, willingly and honestly, if I might add.

I am not easy. I am hopeful.
Hopeful that if I show you, you will show me too.
Show me the truth. Show me what I show you.
I am showing you, me, I am showing you the flaws and all.
Me, in my entirety plastered against the wall. 
Amid it we called out each other’s names.
You closed your eyes and you kissed me without shame.
Are these signs?
Or am I crossing the line?
Always the hopeful romantic,
With a horrible pick.
Thus, what if I am not the one? This will be another mistake.
How many times can one make the same mistake?
The mistake of wanting what’s not willingly given.
But without any hope, what’s the point of living?

I am not easy. I am hopeful.
But perhaps in your eyes I am.
At each moment of slaughter, I am your lamb.
Nevertheless, I bid for you not to see it like that.
I am hopeful. Please don’t let him look at me like that.
Let him see me for more. As I do for him.
More than satisfaction. More than an uncatchable fling.
I see potential. A landscape of stability.
Allow him to understand with me.
Allow him to see.
I am not easy.
I am optimistic.  Hopeful for us. Hopeful for him.
Hopeful for me. Let him show me, him. 
And if it is not to be,
Then I will after all these trial and errors, painfully realize this isn’t for me.

I am not easy. But what if I am.
Making too quick of a decision.
Giving too quick a positon.
With too little consideration that I was warned.
Warned not to fall.
Warned that there would be no answer to my call.
I was seeing it as a twitch of something new.
I had truly hoped you'd see it that way too.
I had hoped you were a hopeful romantic too. 
Hopeful romantics, me and you, just us two.
But it wasn’t, so I can and will only blame myself for I was fittingly warned.
Warned that I'd be scorned.
I wasn’t easy. I was just hopeful but my what ifs became true.
And I was just too much too soon for you.