I Hate Hope

I truly hate hope.
And these are
my reasons:

I hate
positivism
and optimism,
two differently
spelled words
that bring
positivity,
’cause they move
and shape me.
They lead me into
a direction that
I always run
away from.

I’m irritated
by hopefulness.
Yes! It’s the aura
that everybody find
in me that sheds light
to them but,
I don’t want hope
’cause it always
stay beside me –
teasing me
to stand;
to pick myself up;
to renew my faith;
to be stronger; and
to go back
from the start
and begin again.

I’m agitated
by my sanguinity.
It drives me to
hope eagerly
and to be more
optimistic than before.
I’m sick of it as it exhausts
and squeezes the mighty
side of me even if
I’m already tired.

Indeed,
I truly hate hope
’cause it never leaves me.
It pushes me
to be more hopeful.
Amidst doubts and
insecurities,
it trust me
than anyone else.
With it,
I found a friend
and to a certain extent,
family.

Hope powers me to
venture an
unknown territory.
Positivism and
optimism, they’re
my guidance –
leading me
to a destination
that I never
expected –
that arise from
my unwavering
sanguinity that
pisses me.

I truly admit
that I hate,
I’m agitated and
irritated with hope
but one is for sure,
even if it annoys
and pisses me,
I’ll admit to everybody,
“I don’t want it to go away.”
If it will leave me, a part of me
will go missing.
One is for sure,
without it, I’m completely
incomplete forever.

Hope wil surely bring the best out of you as it forces you to surrender to its unfaltering aura that pushes you to continue moving forward in despite of struggles.