Hope is a dangerous thing
She always changes her form
To me, she’s a little butterfly.

She’ll come hurtling into my soul
A flurry of wings and colour and light
She pulls me out of that spiral
Tells me that I can not give up
Not now
Convinces me that I am a fighter
So I can not stop fighting

But just as quickly as she comes
She leaves.
Flutters away
I try to catch her
Grasp on to that feeling again
Try to pull myself out of the spiral
Alone.
It never works.
And I find myself waiting for her to come by again

As I wait I tumble
Down
Downwards
Pulled into a valley of dark thoughts
Thoughts that scream over each other
Scream to be heard
To tell me what I already know
That I am not good enough.
Others are better
Telling me that I will fail
Laughing at me for thinking I could succeed

I think that it’s selfish of her
To give me little tastes
Tiny snippets of hope
And then leave
Without warning

I wish I never met her
If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be waiting around for her
I wouldn’t have gotten addicted to her
I wouldn’t have experienced a rush that high
And I wouldn’t have had to come crashing down.
But I know I can not live without her
I don’t want to need her
But I do

So I’ll wait some more
And write some more
And let the world know
When she comes by again.
If she comes by again