one of my biggest fears,
the thing that i dare not touch—
hope
and yet, somehow
my fists are bloodied,
my grip bruising
i did deign to hope
held it between my hands:
the fragility of wanting
do not let them see me
here, vulnerable, soft
on my knees
praying or begging,
i may not know
all i know is this:
i have found hope
and it is cruel to me
but i am not letting go
in prose: i am afraid of hoping for things because what if they don't turn out the way i hoped for? but i want to hope, nonetheless. happy new year!