Even after burning myself to the ground and lovingly and precisely laying each new stone, I am still fragile.
Even after I see others prove the existence of real evil in the world again and again, I still hope.
But not much.
Even after being told my dreams are just around the corner only to watch this square turn into a pentagon turn into a dodecahedron, I still believe I’ll wake up happy some day soon.
And it’s killing me.