the visualization of hope as a living thing: weeds edition

hope is a cruel thing.

it plants seedlings
in the cracks in your cement

and that just makes it hurt more
when you eventually have to
pull it up by the roots,
pour pesticides in the tiny space it occupied
until the dirt there reeks so badly
of chemicals that it will never again
be the growing ground for a novel thought.

and still others
encroach upon the territory,
try to make the space their own
and nurture their own garden -
but they are being selfish.

your percentage of possibility of hope
is not theirs for the taking.
it is not their birthright, 
it is a no man’s land.

it is a Potter’s Field
among ashes, a minuscule tree
that will not grow -
but you water it anyways.

foolish, foolish hope.

you are not fertilized soil,
you are merely a barren expanse of wasteland. 

do not think for a moment
that hope will not extract 
as much pain from you
as joyful delirium it gave originally. 

it is a subconscious deal,
a monster that preys on weakness
- it is coming and there is no way
that you could ever stop it.

keep in mind
that you will pay the price.








take it from me -
it will always end up hurting.

The End

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