Hope Is Flaw At Its Finest I look at these blank pages and try to find words to fit them perfectly, as if the souls of these pages linger. As if the expect me to find there true nature and place it upon them in simple black ink. I want to; I find it a constant yearning hidden deep within me. Yet I cannot unlock it. I can't open the door that would lead me to my great muse. For I fear she has run away. I write these words as I fight back despair. It leaks into my head, into my heart. I can't seem to fight it, just keep going. Just keep typing words on a soulless blank piece of paper. My memories play on fast forward somewhere in the back of my mind. A dank and dry storage room that is visited all to frequently. These memories are almost always of you. People have a tendency to give things away, not always physical things; for those are always too easy to lose. No, i mean something far more dear. We give away our hope. The hope for a good #life, for a lasting love. Hope is our #life water, and the poison we take in deep gulps. You always had a way of giving me hope. On this blank page, under the pale white is in fact a soul. Not one that is real and moving, but a soul that is just a small broken fragment of my own. This soul lives on, even when my emotions fade, as they almost always do. It will never take its final breathes, It will never find despair in tomorrow, or emptiness in the day after. That is what Iove so much about a blank piece of paper. That is what I loved so much about you. They say that if love is not nourished that it will fade; and in many ways this is true. I can't remember your smell, or the look of your eyes as we made love. Those things are fading and leaving. But this burning emptiness is still here. This fear of tomorrow will not evade me. It will not stop it's endless chatter of solemn thoughts that break into my mind. All I can hope for; oh that sick hope. Is that I will forget, or you will come home. Both seem unlikely. But that's why hope will always be my enemy. Leaving the lover empty, and the loved a lost memory.
