Hope exists
Only to give you fleeting moments of happiness,
An enhanced reason to live,
An ability to think well of yourself
For a time,
And in just a moment,
Almost all of that
Glittering, golden, warming hope
Can be washed down the drain.
Sparkles swirling into a
Deep, dark hole,
Never to be seen again.
All that remains is a shimmering residue
Of what you felt,
Hoped.
Suddenly, the past feels like wasted time,
Wasted effort, emotion, risk.
You shudder to realize
That perhaps you are as low
As you feared you were.
You remember that
You must be wrong, bad,
Insufficient, ugly,
Somehow...you're unlovable.
Only traces of sparkles on your fingertips
Keep you alive.