You look away, I wonder why
Would you do this. You aren't shy
Your gentle hands don't long for me
I should have known better than to follow thee
But dog will always guide you home
No matter the hatred you harbor for some
You tried to be kind, I know you did
But you see, I've noticed the knife you thought you hid
You'd burry me flowers to beside me rot
And tiny ants would on my body trot
So before you hurt me I'll bare my teeth
I hope there's still love left in you underneath
Thank you for taking what you got to gain
I hope I will trust you never again

It’s not about the money itself—
it’s about being happy
with the choices
I’ve chosen for myself.

But this,
I already knew.

So why did someone from outside
have to tell me
this truth
that was already here?

Because I still don’t know
how to validate
the ideas
of my own voice.

Why do I let people in?
To wipe their feet on my carpet?
To add potholes to my road?
To be a cancerous growth in my chest?

Or is it in hopes:
That they add beautiful patterns,
A more clearer route,
Medicine for my mind?

No.
That is called delusion.
Every time you trust someone.
It’s just a reminder why you shouldn’t trust anyone.
At all.

The passing of people is a wound,
but the passing of trust is a death.
When people go,
they leave their shadows in the rooms of memory.
When trust goes,
it steals the light from those shadows,
and sets fire to the bridges
that could have carried them home.
Trust, once broken,
is a mirror in ruins
even if you mend it,
the crack still hides in the glass,
waiting in your reflection.

"OhPlease", I say,
Looking deep into the darkest nights
Searching, reaching for the faintest lights
.
Let my downfall be my softness
Let it be that I loved too much
Let me find the beautiful parts of broken souls
And let those souls consume me.
.
Let me feed the hungry.
.
And scandalize the righteous.
To hold those deemed not worth holding
Let me become the monster
Who might forgive the unforgivable
.
Let my trust in the betrayer
Throw me from my throne
I trusted the traitor,
Let me not be alone

That was before you
wanted
to do anything with us.

That was before I
trusted
you.

That was before I
trusted
anyone.

That was before I
trusted
myself.

That was when I
only trusted
the glow of my laptop in an empty room.

A bouquet from a man of few poetic words,
Left me at a loss, struggling for words,
Amidst the sunflowers, bright and bold,
I found a key to his home, a chapter to unfold.

It was a symbol of trust, a door opened wide,
An invitation to enter, with nothing to hide,
No poem or love letter could ever convey
The depth of his feelings in such a meaningful way.