Hope is the worst feeling. When you’re ready to give up, it’s the light
that keeps you going, suffering through everything weighing you down
and draining you of every last drop of your being.
It’s the end of the tunnel that you see and sprint towards
to finally be happy. The light gets brighter and brighter
until seeing is completely impossible.
Then you realize you flew too close to the sun
when you crash into the surface of the water.
You don’t die; no, that’d be too easy.
Instead you’re left struggling to breathe,
trapped underwater, being pulled beneath the
sanctuary of the light, held close to the surface,
but slowly being dragged further below.
You try your best to fight, because you still see a
faint glimpse of hope left. You’re incarcerated
by the water, sinking towards the nexus
of your world.
That hope diminishes, and
you’re snuffed out.