My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to wish otherwise, is praying upon an angel’s forgotten name that I am fortunate to discover you have come across this page.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to despise its every wish, is festering and boiling inside this minute amount of portrayed innocence spewing venom into her blood.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to reject its temptations, is calling purities to scathe the skin of anxieties skin it to be released as crimson paint on a white canvas.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am and as much as I believe that my life is ideal and blissful, devours the events of joy by enveloping them with disgusts of society.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to forget and continue life with an picturesque image, wraps collections of memories around my swelled, bleeding, heart suffocating me from any aspect of emotion.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am that it can play games of hypnosis with my weak mind, is causing a sort of itching in the nerves of my body to be near, not one, but two of you. Confusing me upon tendencies, both bring me an amount of fear, sadness, joy, bliss, tears, pain, smiles— however it is wrong for both to occur.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to earn strength—at least the gathering of strength I am, supposedly, told to own—, is shredding layers of scarlet weary tissue that is aching upon lack of bravery.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am that you are to ignore these cries, has faith in your ability to worry of me.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to argue, has, ideally, two voices it wishes to hear sob on the opposite side of a liquid screen.
My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to have emotions of loathing, is content with this work of armature literature.

My sinister hope, as passionate as I am to wish otherwise, is praying upon an angel’s forgotten name that I am fortunate to discover you have come across this page.

My innocence, as weak as it has become, begs of my readers, whom I know of physically, to not worry of me. I am simply trying to scathe the beast known as my Sinister Hope