Bleeding Hope

It's not a fashion statement, it's a deathwish

That was the day I began to feel hope.

 

Some inkling of purpose was born inside of me, like the child of a song, and it began to grow. It was an entity as beautiful as a promise and as poignant as a teardrop, keeping me going. Suddenly so many small cuts to my skin and my soul seemed to stop bleeding as my blood clotted with a mysterious thing…a thing I did not know the name of, not yet.

 

Throughout my life, there were always those that told me that things were going to get harder. Well, they did. It seemed like forever that I had been holding up against the inner demons that threatened to destroy me each and every day. It seemed now that the world stood on a teetering precipice, lying in a delicate balance. It had always seemed to me that perhaps a world that resided in such a breakable flux would soon fall, but now I saw that maybe there was a reason why it had held up for so long. Something was holding onto it, never letting it fall off the edge and into oblivion. 

 

That day, when I heard the music, things started to make sense. Perhaps the notion is over exaggerated and I am the only one that feels it when those words ring though the air. But that doesn’t really matter, does it? I can feel it. If I can feel it, that must be enough. 

 

In the end, I know I will fall apart like dead leaves being shed from autumn trees. But just like the tree that sleeps for the winter after the leaves have been buried under the snow, the world will remain on the flimsy overhang until the spring time, when new leaves will grow. Will the new leaves feel this hope? Will they hear it, or will they dismiss the truth like so many others before them? I wonder, will they think of me?  I guess that's my idea of immortality-not never dying, but never stopping, always growing new leaves.

 

I know it doesn’t matter now. When it is time I will be shed from the tree, and I will not be afraid, for I’ve lost my fear of falling.  There is hope in each of my veins, it pours through my body and into my heart and back out again, and it bleeds into the world and nourishes the tree. Maybe that’s what's holding this broken world up- the bleeding hope from each and every one of us, manifesting itself in our tears and our laughter and our songs. 

 

Can we keep this world alive? After everything its done to us? After everything we’ve done to it?

 

We get a lifetime to find out.

Reviews

[vampireprincess]

that was so down to earth and totally awesome and mentally great and man its hard to say these words and and your in the mcr contest too and he will anouce winners tommorrow and i hope you win