How I wish the anxiety
could wash away like water.

Night is the only solace
against a new day, a new fight.
Every prayer tastes
hollow and rehearsed in my mouth,
as if I have held on to it for too long.

I am hungry for hope,
but it has abandoned my embrace.


One thought on “#2282

  1. Whoa. I feel like I could have written this exact piece. I hope that you know you are a gifted writer and never truly alone. 🙂 I too am hungry for more hope, but I wait for the surplus I know is on its way. It always comes. Always.

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