Hope is worse than Love,
For Love promises nothing.
Love kills us slowly,
But it gives us pleasure as it does.
It makes our stomachs flutter,
And makes our hearts dance,
The irregular beat matching
Hour the thoughts flow in our heads.
Hope promises us Joy,
Dancing in the moonlight,
Holding our lover close.
Then it rips all that away.
Hope ends with Despair,
Our hearts ripped out of our chests,
Still beating in it's lovely hands.
Tears flowing down our miserable cheeks,
Raised flesh on our wrists,
Mountain, valley, mountain, valley,
Repeating, over and over,
Our only source of relief.
The red stains easing the pain in our chests,
Making it physical,
Giving it form.
The heat from the damaged skin
Only adding to the new ice
That mirrors the wall we make
To keep Hope from getting in.
To keep Love and Pain out.
Hope is worse than Love
For Hope promises our heart's desire,
Then gives us nothing to fill the hole
Left in our Hearts.
Thatoneoddchick Community Member 
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