Hope in a Place I Built Myself

I had sworn to never free fall —

unless it was into hands ready to catch me.

I hoped for those hands to be ready.

I convinced myself I could mould them —

nourish them to feel safe,

to know how to hold on when they catch me.

But all it did was leave me unnourished,

stripped of a mental companion.

These decisions left me parched

for self-worth.

The choice to nourish and mould

only reminded me

that love can still be

not ready —

not ready to hold,

or never able to hold

the kind of love that I hold.

Not ready to learn,

or not meant to be taught how.

Not ready to withstand

the storm of regret

that comes from embarking on such a journey.

And still —

we decide.

Decisions are hardly made

from a place of knowing —

they're born of hope.

Hope that maybe this is it,

while staying open to the fact

that it might not be.

Hope that maybe it could become something,

while knowing

it might become the very thing

that separates us.

Some things

you must experience to understand.

Some lessons

you can avoid

by refusing to create hope

in places where it wasn’t felt —

only fabricated.

Fantasy can easily be interpreted as hope.

The fantasy that lies on the tongue —

it builds a hammer

to break down walls

that were never meant to be shattered —

only for a brief look on the other side.

A soul unwilling to endure

what it claimed it wanted to experience.

It’s too challenging.

Too unfamiliar.

Too demanding of the self —

to face a reflection long avoided.

Oh, how the tongue lies —

but actions never dare to.

The tongue

is the illusion of hope.

And in the midst of experience,

we come to see it for what it is:

a lie

that lives within someone

who cannot be honest with themselves —

who desperately wants to feel a force

they’ve convinced themselves they can handle.

But a force

cannot be fully experienced

through deception and half-truths.

It will only allow you to believe

you’ve tapped into its power —

when in reality,

you’ve only felt a fraction

of what it is.

So stay with your illusion,

resting on shoulders

built on lies.