Hope

In the search for hope, in all it's places.

I wasn't searching for answers,
or a place to belong.
I was chasing a thread of light--
the kind promised to the faithful,
to the ones who kneel long enough,
who keep their hands clean in the dark.

I believed if I stayed unbroken,
if I outwaited the silence,
the heavens would part.
That fortune could bend,
fate could be softened,
even the stars could be called down by name.

I wrestled myself down to the bone,
built an altar out of my own mind,
offered every regret like a psalm.
And still, the prayers were devoured by the night.

But when I met you,
it wasn't the gods who answered,
or the prophets I studied,
or the stars I pleaded with--
it was you.

And maybe it had always been you,
written between every line,
hiding in every prayer,
the hope I was too desperate to name.