...a young heart once a blank canvas

...a young heart once a blank canvas,

Now a graffiti wall full of crossed out engraved names,
And a face tired of these games.
Do we cloud our own judgement and mislead ourselves with misperception,
Misconception of who we are and what we want,
Or are all these excuses that save us from the pain,
The pain of crossing out yet another name?
I grow weary of, "i would like to know you"s that lead to the same cold place,
Where I try so hard to forget that face
Or just want to disappear without a trace...
Someday someday they say,
I will meet her some day,
And on that day I wonder what will be different- I say…!
“He pounders”
Because everyday seems just like the other when my heart grew founder,
Only to end up in that same cold place where I wished it wasn’t today… “Why did I even bother?”
I want it to stop, this hope is like dope
Feels good when you are high, not so much when you are not… “nope!”
How much do we need this hope more than we don’t?
Surely there must be a replacement for people to cope…

“For hope is but the dream of those that wake…”-Matthew Prior

Like, “"Love is like quicksilver in the hand....Clutch it, and it darts away." - Dorothy Parker