you guessed it, another poem.

-- Hope.--

Im clinging to the little hope i have.
I hold it for dear life, i grip it in my hands like the very same around my own neck.

I cling to the memories we had, even though i watch hopelessly from the side as we drift further and further apart.

Your sweet words hold me in a choke hold of depression and fear,
I await your name to pop up on my phone though i know you wont ever reach as i do to you.

''The hands that grip onto the hope i have of us, they arent mine are they?''

I ask, to hear no reply.

Someday, i will realize you arent here.

But for now dont wake me from my sickly sweet dream.