please mind mine, hush

I think some people are meant only to want.

To see the life they planned so clearly before them, and then

to watch, year after year slip by, raindrops on a windshield that keep coming faster than the one before,

while nothing changes.

or while all the wrong things change.

and all the while other people collect all the pieces of the life you want like change in a jar.

not seeing its value.

how much can you romanticize your life before you are forced to admit,

in the quiet, that

it is empty?

yet that is not the worst of it.

no,

worse by far is hope.

treacherous,

bloody,

yearning

hope.

who whispers "maybe this time..."

while dragging your unwilling corpse back to a fighting stance.

ready to be knocked down once more.

and despite the evidence to the contrary,

once more,

you heed her.

hope.

i know not whether to kill or embrace her.