I think my problem is I’ve learnt to carry so much hope.
Where once I turned to different thoughts less pleasant just to cope,

I made a fundamental change in how I view my life. 
An ending I would like and not decided by a knife.

And choosing that was harder, yes, but also brighter too;
I thought that as I took each step I’m building something new. 

Something worth the time I spent so lost and so afraid. 
But now I see that gaining hope was not a worthy trade. 

Hope is just a lie we tell ourselves and can’t let go.
A wave we ride pretending that the swell will always grow. 

But when it crests and looms above and throws us in its shade,
We act as if we’d no idea how much the water weighed. 

And then we’re left confronted by how utterly we failed,
To measure up against the dreams our stupid hope entailed.

Had I simply stayed submerged in waters I now tread
I wouldn’t feel the cold again nor carry all this dread;

That just as quickly as my hope has plucked me from this sea,
It soon will plunge me down again and never set me free –

For now that I’m infected with this lie I cannot shake,
Despite the many times I’ve learnt the lesson hope is fake,

I always find myself adrift and reaching for that wave.
It seemed a better route to take than swimming to my grave.

Though now I guess the route means less when destinations match.
To swim or drown is less a choice when neither can detach

The feeling of despair from all the effort that you make,
Nor end the crashing of the waves ‘till under them you break.