Hope's on Speed Dial by Hayley Sherman (Theme: When I am Hopeful)

I close my eyes and breathe

so I can breathe when my eyes are open,

and gulp down trees with water

three times a day with a clear-sky chaser.

I take off my boots before I go inside

and I don’t try and hide the places where it hurts,

not anymore.

You can read me in a morning.

No plot twists,

I swear.

I’m only 124 pages long.

I close my eyes and breathe

and repeat, ‘Here. Now. This.’

I picture the warrior, chin raised, eyes fixed.

I picture red, and gold explodes into mist.

I picture no picture and feel my own kiss.

I take off my armour before I go outside

and I don’t try and hide,

not anymore.

Metaphors aside, I don’t like arseholes and their dramas.

I don’t watch Jeremy Kyle or eat out of the bin.

Same thing really.

Hope stands in the doorway beckoning me in,

but I tell her, ‘I’ve got this.’

And she just smiles.