More often than not
I've had enough of love
Underpaid and over spent
Giving out on giving in

Like a clock with no hands
A nail twice over bent
Tattered and torn
Useless and worn

Like a car with no brakes
Too late for mistakes
No room to breathe  
Through the wants and needs

Like building on a fault line
An eradicate moth in flight
Shaky at best
No place to rest

With lost hope in hand
All that is left
Underpaid  and over spent
Giving out on giving in

"Thank you for holding my hand while I try to fix myself. But baby, as of this moment, I am burning; and I don't wanna see you turn into ashes just because you love me too much. I don't want you to lose yourself while we try to find me. I don't want to be unfair."

"Then I guess we'll burn together"

There'a something subtly terrifying about the sound of the clock - tick tock tick tock - like it's the world's reminder that we shouldn't waste our time on something unimportant. Yet, here we are writing our hearts out, never knowing if these words create an impact.

But I have to gamble. Read or not.
I choose hope.
"Hope" how lovely that word is. I think hope is the most beautiful word, at par with faith and love. It is belief in the positive, belief in all good things, belief that the future is good even if it's yet to be seen.

*"May your choices reflect your hopes and not your fears"