Optimism

“Anything is possible,”

as the saying goes.

Anything can be improved,

repaired,

mended,

or revived.

Anything can happen,

if you just put your mind to it.

.

Anything lost,

dismantled,

broken,

corrupted,

can be returned to it’s original state.

.

Anything can be fixed,

given a little TLC.

.

But how can that be possible?

How do you fuse glass already shattered?

How do you heal a leg already amputated?

How do you revise a book already published?

How do you delete a text already sent?

How do you revive a soul already destroyed?

.

After all,

I still see the lines,

after you’ve glued your life back together.

.

My world isn’t as black and white as yours.

I don’t believe

“Everything will be okay.”

I don’t even know what “okay” means.

Because the definition is different

for every person I talk to.

.

“Always have hope,”

is what they tell me,

“Don’t worry, It’ll get better.”

Anything demented,

damaged,

impaired,

or flawed,

can be turned into something beautiful.

.

If only that were the case

How can you have hope when you’re battling cancer?

When you’re trapped under ice?

When your father leaves?

When sleep deprivation has taken over?

When the freaking Coronavirus threatens to kill the world?

.

I don’t believe anything is possible,

or everything will get better.

I don’t understand-

I can’t understand

the optimism everyone has.

.

But they don’t know that.

I’m hopeful around them.

I still try to save people from themselves

when my doubt is greater than theirs.

.

They believe I’m the brightest person,

but I still wonder every day,

is there a cure for life?