Where do I let my hopes hang?
In the air with scents of flowers I cannot name.
How do I let my emotions reign?
Among animals I am not brave enough to tame.
 
Why do I share the shards of my pain?
Fragmented chasms that hold no hope for change.
Where do I let my hopes hang?
In ideas discovered in another person’s brain.
 
Can I love with a million different pieces?
Are they fundamental units dissolved by experience?
What is neither selfless nor selfish?
Can I be invisible in this world to be free?
 
Where do I let my hopes hang?
In a fast flowing river destined for a desert.
What is neither believing nor denying?
Are there still stories to tell that won’t make me cry?
 
When are my words more than enough?
In a book, in a poem, or simply just to have been known?
Where do I let my hopes hang?
In beliefs that are subject to change?
 
What is neither loved nor hated?
Unread books, unwritten poems, or to not have been born?
Where do I let my hopes hang?
In dreams devouring illusions of pain.

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