hoping for the best

My greatest dilemma of the moment is attempting to understand drive. How to thrive when one motivation, one thought kiboshes the rest and the weave of my life becomes a mess. Remember to spread focus on family and friends. It can’t be only about me.

Am I really that narrow from complexion to marrow?

I can logic my way deep into a closet. No need to see those parts of me. A shadow rests on my twisted head. Tangled, mangled. How to pull apart these cords screaming, ‘be more… be more.’ I quickly become deplorable, quickly triggered by another’s pain. No gain from making it all about me.

I hurt. A searing knife lives in a place I can’t quite reach. It keeps me awake, keeps me wanting, searching. Will I ever meet a human who hides their pain like me?

I am young but I’m rather old. You peer at my heart, my soul. The weathered parts could cause a crumbling at the lightest, slightest squeeze. Run from my feelings. I know what’s about to take place, my fate, walking into the trap, the disaster, willingly.

We are creating memories for our future selves to mull over. Share, care about, regret.
But I keep hoping for the best.

-Able Elba