hope definition

Hoping on the Edge of A Cliff

I endeavour to become pure
Clear like snow
But I’ll never get there
If you don’t know

That I am here
Excruciatingly unsafe
Wearing war wounds
Showing them to the open air
Light shines through my hair
Makes it harder to bleed
As I blink in the bright

Wonder and wanderlust have never been mine
But this time I think I’ll try

– Rebecca Elizabeth Anne

Holding hope can make you more tired than every day put together…
But holding hope is who I am.

I always try to hold my thoughts within my own power. But they push and collide until I can’t hold on any more. They run away after childish and unrealistic hope, romantic notions and exhausting daydreams. But maybe that’s just my heart. And you shouldn’t fight your heart.

Hoping is something I struggle with accepting in me because it rips through all the walls I want to keep up that make me feel safe. It perseveres and it never gives up and it’s always there. And I guess it’s who I am. I’ll always hope and more than that, I/I’ll believe. And even I can’t tear it away from me. Even through all the tears I have ever cried, I’ve always just ended up finding myself in a sea of hope.

I want to become okay with my faith in life and my soul crushing/enlivening hope. I think hope requires you to face the cliff that hangs over the sea, standing in the wind with salt air stinging your eyes, and say, “I accept that there is danger here. There is risk. But here I’ll stand anyway.” And I’m so fucking scared of heights and danger. I touch it and it’s callous and cold like jagged rocks. But I still climb. And I end up hanging there on the end of the cliff, saying, “I’m here anyway.”

I’ll always be here. In the dangerous and unsafe hope.

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