Hate this, kernel of hope

tiny ember
because hope always hurts 
too much 
in the end. This unsafe 
edge of breathing with ease;  
after anxiety binds lungs 
for so long. I will 
heap layers of weight 
on that spark, starve it  
of air, of light, of all 
that nurtures. Let the 
acidic loam do its work; 
dissolution instead of 
later wound.