Day after day I exist in a tandem of hope. 
A hope that is willful and at times false.
 Life changes in an instant to be stagnant on such a singular feeling. 
Because when my eyes open and realize the feign  I’ve conducted from Sunday’s morning to Saturday's night...
I falter.
I'm standing at the edge of a blackhole. 
Willfully teetering on the precipice because perhaps I want to fall.