Hope

I abandoned it.

Not for lack of desire to press forward

Or to build anew.

I released the need to imagine

So I could be sober

In the labor of healing.

Vague suspicions creep

Through the reverie of ambition.

And I…

I am left

Crippled by the quiet tremors of anxiety:

To wonder

What if?

What’s next?

What now?

Teacoa Rushton