it tastes like the world is ending

Hope is a fickle thing
that hides in my ribcage
and used to burn so brightly
it could light up my darkest days
and blind me from that half tied noose
I had ready to go  
 
I cashed in my helplessness
for another kind of ness  
and called it freedom
because the chains
didn't bind me so tightly
and the sun reached further down
the abyss and caressed my face
with beautiful lies  
 
And it's only beautiful when it's a lie  
true freedom feels like
the eye of an apocalypse  
when everything you believed in  
dissolves into the wind  
dead embers of a fire
you swore would never go out  
 
Hope is a fickle thing
that hides in my ribcage
and used to burn so brightly
it could light up my darkest days
and blind me from that half tied noose
I had ready to go  
 
But now my hands tie that knot tighter
in the blinking despair  
of the sun going out
and taking hope with it
 
© Indie Adams 2022