The Hope at the Bottom of the Box

I'm still awake. It's 3 in the morning, and I'm afraid to sleep. I lay myself down and panic. After 4 years, she leaves, because she graduated. And I try to keep my head above water. Then the Winter came, and the world was covered in ice. I couldn't leave my home. I thought school would take my mind off the loss, my mind was still with it, but now I had to juggle extra courses. I could never see my friends. I'm surprised any are left. I miss you grandma. Easter weekend. Some kind of divine miracle. I'll see you again someday? I made a new friend. The only one I had in the city, but she left too, a few weeks back. My roommates are leaving as well. No one stays in you Nova Scotia, and I'm stuck owing you money. The subject that I once loved is turning bitter, and illegible. I feel if I had a social life to balance with it, maybe I could see it in a new light. I'm trying to connect with people, but I don't know what they want anymore. I want to just talk to someone. I've been trying too. I want to talk about something besides this, with someone besides myself. Now I have to move back in with my mom, who I never understood, for a life I don't want to live anymore. When Pandora released all evil upon the world, at the bottom of the box was hope. I once thought it was there to give us strength to fight for a brighter future. I now know it was there to lure us in further, so that the evils might envelop us fully. Nothing destroys a soul more than the loss of hope. So fuck you life. Go on and kill the next person. —The Heart Primordial


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