hope

she’s a hushed feeling
like the silent whispers in the back of a funeral home
or the warm and velvety air that escapes your lips on a cool morning

her tranquil existence lingers in the back of my mind
comparable to the determined ember of a freshly extinguished flame
deciding to only make her wavering appearances in my direst of times

i try to avoid our paths crossing at all cost
because my being is equally diminished when she is there and when she is not

the undeniable dread i feel within when she is lost
is unbearable
She is a small child lost in a calamitous storm
And I am the anxious mother awaiting her return

Hope! Hope! HOPE
I would shout at the dark abyss
My hands desperately grasping into the depth of my spirit

Even though I know she might be lost forever,
I constantly anticipate her faint whispers
But silently comprehending that she may never return from the dredges which she came