Hope

It's growing inside me like a tumor.

Expanding its cells; rapidly, endlessly multiplying

Like a starved college student consumer

It eats away at healthy tissue, deadly modifying

What was once good into something unrecognizable 

But no, the doctor's won't hear a peep out of me

Even if I know it's inadvisable,

it keeps growing, growing-and I let it be. 

I'm scared of what I already know

Even though I had the answer ages ago.

I think this is the end 

The hope continues to pretend.