i never learned a damn thing from hope
except that she comes only when she can do the most
damage
and i'm damaged goods
love pushed to the back of the shelf
and life has been taking swings ever since
but every now and then hope comes around
and it's the cruelest thing
i have ever felt
do not give me new hope
like it's a gift-
some rare and precious flower
you picked
because it reminded you of me
it's just pretty poison
and i've been sick for far too long now
i made up my mind about hope
years ago
i hate that she still throws rocks
at my window at 3am
when i'm spinning the bottle
or breaking the skin
and now you've have the audacity
to splinter my glass
a cracked spider web from your touch
and i hate- i hate- i hate
the hope you're giving me
because the kind of damage you can do
with that
is shattering
i have been in this dark room
with closed windows
and loveless touches
a lifetime now
and it's made me sick for so long
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
