my cup is dry.
a dear friend Hope had kept my cup full
until with a reckless abandonment
i discarded her by the wayside.
i accused her of contempt
for she had severed the verbal agreement
we made back when this treacherous journey began.
she had not shared my burden as promised
and i was now dying beneath the unbearable weight.
although i miss my friend,
i refuse to be reunited
due to an unwillingness to trust again.
i may suffer because of my stubborn, vengeful attitude,
but better to hurt of my own accord
than open my heart and become once again
vulnerable and fragile to external sources.
i detest being susceptible to others
so for a time i traveled alone,
giving nothing and expecting the same in return.
however, recently i united with a new companion
who answers to the name Pessimist.
his cup is half empty.
i find him agreeable to my disposition
and i speculate that he will sustain me
through the demanding travels ahead.
i cannot claim to be half empty or half full;
my cup is still dry,
and i am now Hopeless.
dina marie
may 2006
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