Hope(less)

Every so often
there is just
a glimmer of hope.
I can't touch it or see it
but I can feel it
touching me softly
like the hand of
a mother
reminding her child
she's still there.

I've reached for it
before and always
realized it's
too far away
so I stumble and
scold myself
because I should have
seen it coming.

How can hope be a
lifeline if it's so
easily shattered?

How can I put all
my trust into
a single feeling
and just assume
it won't unravel
me until I'm a
single strand of
useless life?

I'm not ready
to hope. Hope
means trust,
something I've
unfairly lost
and therefore
cannot give.

Hope means
faith, something
I've been tested
for and failed.

Hope means
stability, the
ground I walk
on tremors
everywhere I go.

And most of all
hope means,
love, something
that has been
withheld from
me and torn
from my
grasp one
too many
times.