Oct 15, 2012

Hope

Kahlo,Frida
Hope, his mind is a graveyard, his heart is an island. He and I are not good friends but I have known him all my life. He sits in my belly, hollow and distant, though his whispered words of encouragement will never comfort me. I'm onto his tricks, his false promises. Go away I tell him, I'm busy today, I've got things to do. But this acquaintance never knows when to leave. It's not a question of why he befriended me in the first place, it's more a question of why I choose to let him stay.



 

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