Hope is a deadly thing.

It never goes away; keeps you alive but poisons you day by day.

There can be no reason to have hope yet it still exists.

I, just by existing, am a display of hope in itself.

Things have been happening.

I haven’t been on top of everything.

My family is broken as it always has been, yet the cracks seem more violent and deep now.

The pressure is on me.

I try to persevere that dreadful hope and not fall victim into its consequences.

But people never fail to betray me or let me down, so how can I stay strong?

Moreover, how can I make the pain go away –

for the people I love, for the people who don’t deserve this,

for me.

It’s a rocky journey.

A future that I can and cannot see.

And it feels like whatever happens now,

the consequences, the actions

are all up to me. 

written on May 2, 2019. No edits, no changes. Just pen to paper. And then paper to blog.

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