i tend to.

a poem?

i tend to be hopeful
in such a foolish way, 
it's almost sickening 
how I trick my own mind. 
I make a fool of myself. 
tell me, 
is it better to hope or
to accept?

to accept what?
my erratic heart 
asks. 
that you beat for 
the wrong person, 
you should be beating 
for me. 
not for him.
not for the one 
who aims the gun towards you,
the one 
who would take all the blood 
from your foolish little being.
the one who would keep repeating it
until you are nothing more than 
a pathetic destroyed thing.
i am the one who keeps you alive,
not him. 
listen to me.

i love the illusion, 
the idea, 
the "what it should be"
it just seems that I'm never able
to keep it. 
it escapes from my hands, 
it becomes from everyone, 
but never mine.

From pinterest <3

With love,

Adriana <3