And then, they said, what slithered between your legs and goes into your heart is not love. It’s hope. It’s just hope. And hope is a flesh-eating thing, a killing cavalry marching in your way while you’re sleeping. And now you’re left with eternal defense. You dug a trench around your high-looming castle, throwing barbwires, set the archer in every corner. You swore to life, to never believe again.
How fool can one be? They said give them bits, but you gave them whole. They asked for limbs, and you bent bones to its core cell. You really are the fool one. But all you did was believing. All you did was loving. All you did was hoping.
But they said what’s a trust without bloodshed.
