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NitaAnn Dec 2013
Trust =  faith, belief, hope, conviction, confidence, expectation, reliance

The sordid talk of “trust”

A recent email communication has inspired me to research and clarify the word “TRUST”. What does trust mean to you? When you set your alarm at night, do you ‘trust’ that it will wake you up in the morning? What happens if one day, it doesn’t? Would you then ‘distrust’ your alarm clock? How many chances would the alarm clock have to fail you before you shopped for a new, more reliable one?

Do you ‘trust’ that someone received something you left for them, or do you follow up to ensure receipt?

The Doctor-Patient relationship is based on “TRUST”

I don't remember a time I 'trusted', truly trusted, anyone. That is until I began working with dear therapist. I was thinking about how it takes a lifetime to gain trust and only a moment to lose it....sadly.... And I was reviewing the times the word 'trust' has been written or spoken by DT in the past 5 years. I dare say he has written, or said, the "T" word more in the last five years than I've ever said in my entire life!

Examples: (as you can see, I'm all about the 'evidence' big grin)

DT said: it took you over a year to develop the  trust  to let me know some things directly from your words....
DT said: Give ME your hate - because I am not making the pain go away. I won't go anywhere if you do.
  Trust  me.
DT said: I ask that you try to
  trust  what I am saying here and continue to commit to this our work together.
DT said: I
  trust  in you and the strength of our working relationship.
DT said: you can
  trust  that I and others will be there to help and support.
DT said: You will continue to challenge my concern and trustworthiness because this is what you have needed to do to protect the fragile self that has over learned self-reliance.
DT said: I will not abandon you because you are only going to lean into
"trust  and need" to the extent that you are not collapsing.
DT said: You are slowly growing in your capacity to tolerate these feelings in the presence of another
  trusted  person - NOT AN EASY TASK!
DT said: I understand is a long process and
  trust  /fear/shame is involved.
DT said: Building
  trust  with others and within yourself takes a long time.....given your starting position.
DT said: I insist that we have the
  trust  and honesty about how you are doing and what you need.
DT said: There is so much learning, relearning,
  trusting,  questioning, testing that you are doing. I  trust  that you will give it your best and your best will be good enough
DT said: Rest your head and
  trust  that you are safe in your space right now., no one is going to hurt you and you are wrapped in your blue blanket with my faith enclosed.
DT said: I accept your anger at me for this (not that I like it…) and I
  trust  that we will continue to work through new challenges honestly.
DT said: As you learn to
  trust  and open up with the shame and fears and we keep you fully in your body during these times
DT said: Fundamental
  trust  in the therapy relationship can take years and you are getting there slowly and slowly is necessary…
DT said: make arrangements with 'best friend' or someone else you
  trust  to take your meds and give you only enough for 2 days at a time.
DT said: I
  trust  that you will bring your fears, needs and whatever else shows up.
DT said: you are in the middle of a giant, long term test of me and others on whom you might have some
  trust.
DT said: If I gave that impression, then that was my own "stuff" getting in the way of  trusting  you in knowing what is best for you.
DT said: The nature of your
  trust,  distrust, anger, perceived loss of me is a major "therapeutic" aspect of your healing and our work together.
DT said: you can
  trust  that I and others will be there to help and support.

Wow! That's a WHOLE lotta "TRUST" to push and push and push....and then to shatter into a million pieces in only a moment....

Did DT teach me to "trust"? Yes, he did.

...but more importantly, he taught me that it isn't safe to trust anyone. Not even a therapist who extended a 'life-line' to you every single night for 2 years.

I "trust" that he isn't "here" tonight.

I trust that he discarded me and left me here alone to try to put back the shattered pieces of my life...by myself!!!

Just as he trusts I will make the best decision for myself. (that sounds to me like he has thrown the proverbial 'trust' ball back into my court)

Dear Therapist, I see your "trust" and I raise you a "discarded, shattered, afraid, little girl"...who, after 5 years and thousands of dollars working with you....is back to trusting no one. And more deeply wounded than ever. I trust that the knife in my back will hurt for years to come. And I trust that the bad taste in my mouth will remain after a few bottles of wine.

Trust....my new 'drinking' game...I will drink 1 glass of wine every time I hear, or read, the word 'trust'…I should be sufficiently drunk, or at least buzzed, the majority of the time!


**Trust....trust - no - one!
Big Virge Apr 25
So Who Do You … “ TRUST “ … ?!?
  
Do You Trust YOU To Make SMART Moves ...  
And Pick WISELY In Who You Choose To Be WIFEY' ... ?!?  
  
Or Ladies Do You ……  
Trust That Your Baby Will Not Become CRAZY … !!!
When Their Father Is Lazy And Always Was … “Shady” … !!!
  
And I DON’T MEAN ... " SLIM " ...  
More Like ... THAT GIMP … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  
Yup ... Chained To SIN … !!!!
Were You Thinking These Things …
When You … Slept With Him  … ?!?
  
Do You TRUST Your Decisions … ?
Take A Minute And ... Position …  
An HONEST ... Disposition … !!!
  
Before You Give An Answer …  
That BOMBS Just Like … “ Obama “ … !!!
  
THAT’S RIGHT I Used His Name … !!!
Do You Trust The Things He Says … ?!?
  
I Could of Used … “ OSAMA “ …
But DO NOT Trust The Saga of Al-Qaeda DRAMA … !!!!
  
Do You TRUST Politicians ...
Who Only Seem To … “ Listen “ …  
To People Bent On Missions ...
of War Bloodshed And KILLING … !!?!!
  
I Trust BUT ... AM NOT Willing …  
To Recognise That Sinning …
Is How Cool Folks Be Living … ?!?  
  
Cos’ Sinners PROVE With QUICKNESS …  
That Trusting THEM Can Cause PROBLEMS … !!!!!
  
When Their Defence Trusts In NONSENSE … !!?!!
  
I Trust ONE DAY That They Will Pay …  
For Threats They Make And Lives They TAKE …
Because Their Way Is To TAKE THE WHOLE CAKE … !!!!!  
  
Do You Trust Yourself When Tempted By Things …
That Can DAMAGE Your Health Like BURNS And Stings … !!!
  
Or YES Like HOT WOMEN Or Drugs That Can Bring …  
The Types of HIGHS ...
That OPEN THE THIGHS of Coc’ Driven Minds …  
  
Do You Trust In Lines That FEED INTO Such Vibes … ?!?
  
I Don’t Think It’s Wise To Trust Your Mind …  
When It’s Been Supplied By What’s FALSIFIED …. !!!!!
  
HIGHS DESIGNED To … BLOW UP Like … !!!
Atomic Bombs And ... POPULAR Songs … !!!
  
My Head Is STRONG … !!!
But NOT Strong LIKE THAT … !!!!!
  
I Trust And Belong …
OUTSIDE of … “Traps” … !!!
Where Rap’s Now Gone … !!!!!
  
I Trust In Tracks That EXPOSE WRONGS … !!!
So Stick To The FACTS In My Versions of Songs … !!!
  
I TRUST Y’all KNOW ...  
That Poetry Flows When Drum Beats ROLL ...  
And Words Are Thrown Through Microphones … !!!
  
Into Those Zones Where STRONG Headz’ ROAM …
And SHOUT For MORE ... Wordplay That ROARS … !!!!!
Through Human Lions Looking For …. “ Zion “ …………….
  
I Trust ONE DAY ... Babylon DECAYS …  
And Allows New Ways To ELEVATE BRAINS …. !!!!!
  
I Trust …. “ REAL RASTAMEN “ … !!!
  
There Aren’t Many of Them Who i’d Now Call Friend …  
I See MANY With Locks But Now Trust Them NOT … !!!!
  
Because Their Rasta’ ... Is More Like Rappers …  
PRETENDING They HAMMER Like REAL Gun Clappers …    
When IN FACT They’re Just Slappers With ***** That Tamper …  
With SLAGS Whose Manner Is DESERVING of … BANNERS … !!!
  
BANNERS That Say …. !!!
  
" TRUST A **’ Today
And You’ll GET LAID In VARIOUS WAYS ! "
  
But Here's The DISCLAIMER … !!!
You Might Get PLAYED …… !!!?!!!
  
I’m NOT A Proclaimer … !!!
But Trust In NO BABE … !!!
Whose ***** Shakes …
  
... ALL OVER THE PLACE … !!!!!!!!!!
  
Cos’ It’ll Shake The Heads of RAVENOUS MEN ….. !!!!!  
  
Who Trust Their ***** …
Before They Enlist Using THEIR BRAINS …. ?!?
  
Do You Get What I’m Saying … ?!?
  
I Believe That TRUST …  
Is A … BEAUTIFUL THING … !!!!!
  
But Trusting In LUST Is NOT FOR KINGS … !!!
And NOT FOR Queens ... Know What I Mean …. !?!?!
  
I Trust That ONE DAY PEOPLE … “ Will Change “ … !!!!
And RE-Arrange …. IGNORANCE And HATE … !!!!!!
  
And TRUST IN EACH OTHER … !!!
YES Sisters And Brothers of EVERY Last Colour … !!!!!
  
And Will TRUST In ... “ TRUTH “ … !!!!!
NOT Being … “ UNCOUTH “ … !!!!!!
  
Because TRUTHFUL WORDS DIRTIED Their Shirts …  
And Left Them ****** … Chickens And Sirs … !!!!!
  
Whose Current Worth …  
Isn’t Even As Precious As THIS HERE Verse … !!!!!
  
That Needs NO Consensus To Affirm Big Virge …  
As A CONNOISSEUR of The Written Word …. !!!
  
I Trust You’ve Read These Words I’ve Penned …  
And Will Take From Them Some Things I’ve Said …  
  
Finally I’ll Express One Last Sentiment … !!!
Whether Partner Or Spouse … ?
Or Business That You … “ Tout “ …  
  
Or Simply When It Comes …
To ... How Your Life Functions …
  
It REALLY Is A …. MUST ….  
To Be CAREFUL Who YOU ….
  
…. “ Trust “ …. !!!!!!!
We all need to be very careful to who it is, that we choose to trust ....
Garo K Jun 2014
Trust me I am shadow. Trust me I am death.
Trust me I’m the vulture in the net.
Trust me I'm a master. Trust me I’m a legend.
Trust me I am what you call a monster.
Trust me I am reason. Trust me I am chaos.

Trust me I am not a human. Trust me I have never been a one.
Trust me I am not a seeker, for what I am is what I seek.
Trust me I’m the voice inside an empty mind, possessed by greed and anger.
Trust me I’m unreal, Trust me I’m insane.
Trust me I’m a predator, Trust me I am pain.

Trust me all my victims are aware. Trust me that my reign is there.
Trust me all of them should know, not to trust the guy that river flows .
Trust me all of you are so fragile, Trust me I am really bad as vail.

Trust me, you don’t wanna know, if you can trust the snake behind this row.
Jack Shannon Feb 2019
We trust ourselves to know right from wrong.

We trust in the age old sayings of people whose names we can’t remember.

We trust our dogs not to **** in our favourite pair of shoes whilst we’re asleep.

We trust that everyone means well and just wants to get by.

We trust the teachers who taught us the earth is round, and that Pi is 3.14159 and how Pluto is the 9th planet in our solar system...

We trust that not everyone is right all the time.

We trust bus drivers to not get lost.

We trust in the fact that our keys are probably in plain sight even though we’ve been looking for half an hour.

We trust our parents to know what to do no matter the situation.

We trust the world to keep spinning away in the dark void of space with no company but the moon.

We trust that everything will be alright.

We trust that one more pint won’t hurt.

We trust that hangovers are only temporary.

We trust our partners when they say I love you.

We trust in traffic lights and zebra crossings.

We trust that this is our last chance to get a brand new sofa in the DFS sale with O% APR for 4 years.

We trust that size doesn’t matter.

We trust Alexa won’t tell us to *******, and that Siri will always help us no matter how many times we say we hate it.

We trust that despite our self-doubt and insecurities that we’ll probably still get through another day.

We trust in peanut butter.

We trust that no matter how many times things go wrong, mistakes are made and promises are forgotten, we will learn to trust again...
We trust.
Another  try at normalising the weird thoughts that pop into my brain sometimes.
Don't trust anyone.
That's what they say.
Don't trust anyone.
I don't think that way.
Trust. The most valuable thing.
On par with loyalty.
You should always trust someone.
I trust me.
You should trust you.
Trust that you'll make the right choice,
That you'll step up when needed,
Morality needs a voice.
Trust that you'll be there for them.
When their tears need a shoulder,
When his troubles needs comfort,
When her heart needs a holder.
Trust in yourself.
Then trust will come to you.
They'll trust your decisions,
They'll trust everything you do.
But be aware,
Trust is fragile.
Be careful who you trust.
Trust yourself, to keep your trust agile.
And when trust in someone is returned,
And when it is equally reflected,
Love will grow,
And your hearts forever connected.
Trust.
Trust her.
Trust him.
Trust me.
But most of all, trust yourself. And you'll love yourself. And life will be better.
Written with a friend who seems to be having trust issues at the moment. Stay strong buddy.
Harrison W Apr 15
In Quarantine We Trust
There will be annihilation
In Quarantine We Trust
It will end in jubilation

In Quarantine We Trust
An awakening of the soul
In Quarantine We Trust
Dirt for this empty hole

In Quarantine We Trust
Compassion for the spiteful
In Quarantine We Trust
Humility for the prideful

In Quarantine We Trust
That there will be healing
In Quarantine We Trust
For the tears of families kneeling

In Quarantine We Trust
First Procedural Sense
In Quarantine We Trust
Next Misplaced Reverence

In Quarantine We Trust
Dominion of material
In Quarantine We Trust
Elimination of ethereal

In Quarantine We Trust
There will not be new beginning
In Quarantine We Trust
The world will keep on sinning

In Quarantine We Trust
Unattainable height
In Quarantine We Trust
Fingertips missing Light

In Quarantine We Trust
The Essence will be rust
In Quarantine We Trust
Until we change our Trust
Fear, Is a battle.
Fear is a Disease.
My disease.

Fear, puts me in places,
That I know I shouldn't be in.
Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why.

See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of.
It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death.

Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another.
Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others.

Ah...you see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt.

Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear.
In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can.

Trust is powerful.
But fear cuts deep.

When trust, faith, in someone is broken...
Well...we've all been there at some point.
When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken.

At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing.
Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there.

Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends.

But, in a few of us...


In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears.
Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail.
Trust is gone.
Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything.

Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes, it doesn't.

Fear. Trust.
They walk, hand in hand.
Toe, to toe.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying.
Her energy is not limitless.

At times like these...
Hope, is not enough.

Trust has died.
The only way, to restore the balance,
Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust.

It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't.
At times like these,

I need the trust of someone,
Who is willing to share,
With one, who trusts no one.
I encourage this to provoke thought. Is there someone in your life that matches this story? Are you willing to share your trust?
Rachel Gosby Nov 2018
Trust me when I say I love you
Trust me when I say I'm in love with you.
Trust me when I say I'm coming home to you and only you.
Trust me when I say I'm sure I'm ready for you
Trust me when I say I believe in us.
Trust me when I say I'll do anything for you
Trust me when I say my heart and soul belong to you, and only you
Trust me when I say my body belong to you
Trust me when I say I found love in you.
Trust me when I say I'm done with being hurt and mistreated.
Trust me when I say I'm here for you and with you.
Trust me when I say your not along.
Trust me when I say all I  want is for our life's to be so wonderful.
Trust me when I say we have what we've been praying for, and we got it
Trust me when I say we can do this, because we have one another.
Trust me when I say I'm never going to leave you, I'm always here for you.
Trust me when I say you mean more to me now, than you will ever mean to me.
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
you sit before me at the bench
and you throw your head back
hair loose, and neck exposed
as you drink water from the bottle
O, it makes me want to kiss your neck
lick it wet,
and drink from your mouth
and kiss your ears
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there



I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there



you wave at a friend passing by
and I say I love that wrist exposed
and I want to kiss your naked wrists
and I want to kiss your neck
it makes me feel like these vampires
these kids today rave about
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


O look sweetheart
you may not trust yourself
and you may not trust me
but I trust myself
so let me kiss your neck and ears
and let me nibble at your wrists
and let me drink from your mouth
cos I really trust myself


and still you laugh
and you won’t let me
and you say:
*I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
you sit before me at the bench
and you throw your head back
hair loose, and neck exposed
as you drink water from the bottle
O, it makes me want to kiss your neck
lick it wet,
and drink from your mouth
and kiss your ears
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there



I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there



you wave at a friend passing by
and I say I love that wrist exposed
and I want to kiss your wrists
and I want to kiss your neck
it makes me feel like these vampires
these kids today rave about
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


O look sweetheart
you may not trust yourself
and you may not trust me
but I trust myself
so let me kiss your neck and ears
and let me nibble at your wrists
and neck
cos I really trust myself


and still you laugh
and you won’t let me
and you say:
*I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there
CR May 2013
the sky over i-95 is violet, the color of the deepest bruise
like the one you actually remember getting, that eclipsed
all the little gray-green ones from
tripping over belgian blocks, and mismeasuring the distance
to the doorframe.
the sky over i-95 cannot hold water very long
and soon it doesn’t.

you look out the new-car window
silent windshield wipers and you remember
the other times it’s rained on your occasion
(with stinging peroxide sometimes, and
sometimes gasoline, when you had a match
in the glovebox,
but mostly water).

you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed
in the not-quite-hurricane
or the deafening of the drops on the car’s aluminum backbone.
you used to trust they’d never fall, they’d never flood
the crashes you passed rubbernecking were never fatal
traffic would always clear
you’d never be late.

as you watch the oversized leaves support the waterweight today
you think how every bit of that is gone from you now
siphoned slowly and quietly but
unmistakably gone from you now
you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up:
“I do not trust the trees. I do not trust the raindrops.”

quieter you think
“I do not trust the future. I do not trust an empty building.
I do not trust the movie theater. I do not trust the ocean,
or the river. I do not trust water
when I can’t see the bottom.”

you get a little philosophical as you get hungry and the exit numbers get high
“I do not trust the highway. I do not trust me. I do not trust the curtains
to keep me safe when I sleep, and I do not trust waking to bring me morning.”

you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up,
but also because that’s how the thoughts come.
there’s something that you do trust
that’s enough to warm you as this unseasonable may
comes to a close.
you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed
and you think how they might fall
but they haven’t yet.
you think how it’s kind of okay not to trust them:
you trust something else.

                                                   (pain is lucrative.
                                                   so is smiling.)

                 a female cardinal perches outside the window of
                 the room, just as you arrive to leave again
                 and you think how she's just as pretty as the
                 candy-apple-red male, though she's dark against the tree trunk

and when you’re back to celebrate the years since leaving
you might even trust that tree trunk
and the girlcardinal you have to squint to see

                                                   you might also trust morning, then,
                                                   and night.

meantime, the sky lightens:
sundrops while the rain comes loudly still.
Trust
can I trust you?

Again,
can I trust you ?

Can I trust you will treat me with respect?
Can I trust you?  

But really can I trust myself ?
...if I cannot trust you to treat me with respect ?

Trust, great leaps of courage on the road to trust
                                 ...
I see no other way to live deeply then to take great leaps of trust

Can you trust me ?
Can we trust each other ?

on this path that bends in so many directions great leaps of trust await

open hands with the intent to trust remain
gentle and willing to try
Trying to map out my thoughts as I try to renew trust

I find it is requiring I decide to let go of past hurt.
River Sep 2019
trust is a fragile thing you know
one little mistake and its all gone

what even is trust
isnt it made to be broke?

man break my trust
ill never be the same again

ill be so depressed
whenever i hear your name

its like a constant voice saying
"see that they hurt you"

im always in great pain
but trust, wait what am i saying?

what even is trust anyway
an invisible glass heart

that breaks by the slightest
wrong touch?

trust, what even?
do you have to hold it so dearly?

and why is it so hard to fix?
i mean why am i hurting so bad?

trust, sorry wont even fix it
and no one knows what actions best fit it

and trust, who even keeps it
its almost like its meant to be broken

what even is trust?
is it apart of your imagination?

maybe its the longing
to want to have faith in someone

maybe trust is just
you wanting to feel like you know you are loved

maybe when you give someone all your trust
it means they are your world

but trust?
its meant to be broken

and no matter what
everyone breaks trust.

so what is trust?
a lie you dont need to have hope in.
ShowYouLove Mar 2017
Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I trust in your Divine Providence. Allow me to be open enough to allow you to work and move in and through me.

Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I trust in your Divine Will in my life. Help me to follow and walk with you especially when I cannot feel you near or see the path before me.

Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I trust in your Divine Joy. Guard me to remain ever joyful and kindle in me to look at life with childlike faith and joy.

Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I trust in your Divine Peace. In a world with chaos and commotion at every side, remind me of the peace I find when I focus on you.

Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I trust in your Divine Mercy and Grace. I don't deserve it and can't earn it, but you give it anyway. Help me thank you by doing the same for others.

Jesus, I trust in you! Jesus, I love you! Jesus, I adore you! I need not fear because Jesus you are FOR me.

Jesus, I trust in YOU!

AMEN
inspired in part by the divine mercy chaplet (Jesus, I trust in you!)
pluie d'été Feb 2014
never trust a writer
because their words
flung into the air
in a whisper
a scream
or dropped
scrawled
in silence
on the emptiness
of a forgotten stillhouette
has the power
to lead you astray

never trust a writer
because they find beauty
in everything
especially sadness
amd the grey
grey sky
that falls at your feet
along the shadow
of your heart
the one you beg
for them to break
to make you
whole

never trust a writer
because they don't always
trust the words
that tumble from their own
perfect lips
they say them for
their beauty
in the sound
in the silence
they say them
for the way they rhyme
with 'forever'

never trust a writer
because he can capture
your soul
with just a look
holding you
the entire universe
and all eternity

never trust a writer
because they may talk
awake
but they dream with their eyes
open
and closed
simultaneously
and you can never
be sure
which character they have chosen
for you
which character
they have chosen to be
to you

never trust a writer
because their emotions
not always visible
always
consume them
like a strike of lightening
cold
burning
inside

never trust a writer
because they always
know
what you want to hear
and what they really
want to say

never trust a writer
because their knowledge of love
is as infinite
as the emptiness
in the black sky
stars
moments of clarity
that create an atlas
of who
they fall for

never trust a writer
because normal in life
is never normal
in their dreams
and they always
last longer

never trust a writer
because 'I'll love you for now'
sounds better
when they say it
as 'I'll love you
forever'

never trust a writer
because I swear
they do not believe
in the emptiness
of promises
and they will let you
break their souls
just to see
what happens after
A B Faniki Jun 2019
The bittersweet taste of dishonesty has always
made men yearn for God, who is faithful.
Words, names, and laws are the ingredient that
Made life amazing and great, that is why the
Words we trust in are those of almighty God.
The name we trust in is that of God,
And the laws we trust in are those of God too.
Simply put, “IN GOD WE TRUST.”
Defeat is not in our province, nor is our hope going to
Be extinguished; because our God can be trusted.

Our heart will not jolt a bit if brute
Force is borne upon us, for sticks and
Stones may break our bones but not
Our spirit, which is free of mortal law.
The nation will be subdued under the souls that
Do not trust in mortal men and their whims.
The people will be subdued under the soul that
Trusts in God and is not afraid to say it.
The pursuit of happiness for the spirit of men
Is closed circuit (alive) when we trust in God.

Whenever something bad happens to a good man
There is something he could do, trust in God;
For there is always a silver lining to every cloud.
There is an original sin for men to contend with,
But there is a promise also for those who trust.
Just like there is a Christ for those who believe.
Men of destiny will always look up to the heavens
When they’re seeking the path of trust and wisdom.
As for us who trust in God we will be as
high as the sky and as deep as the ocean.
This one of thelong piece of poem I have wrote. Is about trust whch is key to everything in life. To put our trust in men is folly it's self.
IcySky Jun 2015
Trust you!?!?
Trust you!?!?
How do you expect me,
to trust you after everything?

Trust is a fragile thing,
and when you lose my trust,
it's hard to get back...
How can I trust you?

Trust you...pshh
You don't even know
the meaning of the word.
Trust you

You have not a clue,
do you?
Of what it takes to keep,
nay, earn back trust.

My heart is *not
a toy,
that can be replaced.
It's fragile, and should not be broken.
But yet... you have.

Trust you?
I can't...
No way...
No how...

See what you have done?
*My Trust is gone!
Erin Nicole Nov 2016
Letting go of every single dream
I lay each one down at Your feet
Every moment of my wandering
Never changes what You see
I’ve tried to win this war I confess
My hands are weary I need Your rest
Mighty Warrior, King of the fight
No matter what I face, You’re by my side
When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!
Truth is, You know what tomorrow brings
There’s not a day ahead You have not seen
So, in all things be my life and breath
I want what You want Lord and nothing less
When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!
You are my strength and comfort
You are my steady hand
You are my firm foundation; the rock on which I stand
Your ways are always higher
Your plans are always good
There’s not a place where I’ll go, You’ve not already stood
When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!
I will trust in You!
I will trust in You!
I will trust in You!
Great song!!!
Kaley Kerchaert Dec 2016
Trust is a responsibility to yourself,
Knowing who an what to trust is hard...

Trust can Be broke so Easily,
an Built back up so slow...

It take's 1 second to break trust,
An years to Rebuild it!!

Be careful People...
know what to do...

Be wise an justified with your words...

This is what I do... Some advice to you!

Don't trust just anyone,
Be cautious an beware,
there's people out there...
who just don't care!!

I don't trust anyone...until they give me a reason too!!
I watch what they say an do...To see if there loyal, to me an to others too!!

Trust is an Honor...
An If you gain any from me...
You should know your special...
An with That Trust we share...
That means im there for you till the end...

Unless you break The Trust that I once gave...
Don't come back crying to me...
pray that I have Some faith to give you any Grace...

An maybe if you do right...an gain my trust back..
(which probably wont be in a long time...)
(That doesn't mean I wont care...)
but if you do... Your pretty lucky...
Cause I only trust very few!!!

I Believe in Second chances...
I believe everyone matters...
but I don't have to trust you..
unless you give me a reason too!...
(And thus the love of others getting it, is beyond wonderful and truly a grace given to us all.)

h ttp://revengeoftheherd.com/2015/08/15/the-great-con-of-man-esoterics-the-supernatural-magicians-mind-co­ntrol-and-the-new-world-order/


“The Great Con of Man” — Esoterics, The Supernatural, Magicians, Mind Control and the New World Order

15
Saturday
Aug 2015

Posted by Old Shep in Alternative, NWO

≈ Comments Off on “The Great Con of Man” — Esoterics, The Supernatural, Magicians, Mind Control and the New World Order

Tags

black magic, bradley loves, contracts, esoteric, magic, word magic

From Bradley Loves:
CHAPTER ONE

Backwards and forwards, sideways, and mirrored, the mind sees absolutely everything! It is a great holographic computer, which, when left to operate normally, really does contain both the POWER and the unlimited INFORMATION of the cosmos within it.

However, with “dis”- connected DNA, (thanks to certain ET groups) our ability to “perceive” subtle vibrations, and their effects within our multi-dimensional reality, has been quite interfered with.

With fully connected DNA, a spoken word will cause a vibration that can literally be SEEN by the human being speaking it. They will see either the harmony, or the discord, within that vibration, as well as a corresponding color to that vibration which will then “tell them” if that vibration will do good things or bad things! They will know whether that vibration is helpful, or harmful to them or the other things around them.

As they watch the vibration propagate, they will also see the affect that the vibration has upon other levels, as it is propagated into the ethereal and astral planes from the physical planes. Such is the nature of a totally connected human being with fully operational DNA!

They will also see both the color and texture of the vibration as it is spoken, along with the feeling of the harmony, or the disharmony. They will see all of this as one complete knowing.

A fully connected human is aware on multiple levels. The reason for disconnecting our DNA was very specific in that those who did this did NOT want human beings to be able to see the effects of their words, or the “magic” that those words held. It was done so that they could not see the subtle vibrations and thus protect themselves from the harm that their own word spell-ings would invariably to those around them and other levels.

It was malicious, it was intentional, it was a Cosmic Crime!

It was done to render them defenseless. The plan was always to enslave these poor humans who had been genetically altered, and genetically manipulated. This will become more clear to you as you read on. For now, I will simply refer to these beings or this group as DARK MAGICIANS – Later, you will both be able to see, and understand better, who they are, and why they did what they did.

Word Magic is both tremendously vast and complex. To understand only a small fraction of it takes a lot of time. So, let’s start really small, and take only one or two sacred sounds out of many hundreds. We will look at what they both indicate and cause.

Each spoken (cast) word or phrase, is a magic spell (spelling) that carries power, color, vibration, will, intent, and is “magnetically charged”.

If we look at a few word-magic “spells”, or “magic spell-ings” that people cast almost daily, we will first consider them, and then observe what is similar in these 10 words.

Rust
-Lust
-Crusty
-Must
-Musty
-Disgust
-Bust-
Trust
-Ju­st-
Justice

Apart from the fact, they all rhyme, (sound the same), which is due to the “ust” sound, every one of these magical words tend to indicate a “presence of decay”!

-Rust is a decay of metal-
Lust is a decay of the mind
-Musty is a smell associated with decay
-Disgust is the decay of reverence for another.

So, if we look closely at the similarity of these words, all of them seem to hold an indication of “decay” within them. If we look at words that are not nearly as obvious, we can only decipher them if we already know what we are looking for. When we look at the word “must”, as in – “you must do this” or, “you must do that”, the word “must” due to the “ust” sound has to indicate decay.

It then is not so difficult to see where the decay is, once you realize that “ust” always means decay! MUST indicates the decay of your spiritual FREEWILL, since no living being, according to Prime Creator, “must” do anything.

By using words with similar sounds, and then grouping them together, we are able to deduce that those magicians who gave us our language are giving us hidden “clues” as to what those words actually mean, (as opposed to what we THINK they mean.)

If someone comes to you and uses the word “Must” in a sentence, (as in – You MUST do this) that very word indicates to you a real time decay of your freedom as the magic spell-ing of the word is being cast at you from the one doing the casting.

Can anyone find fault with this? Let’s look at an example: If you are a kid sitting on the couch watching your favorite television “program”, and your mother comes to say, “Timmy, you MUST, do your homework!” Timmy’s freewill, (in real time) has just experienced DECAY!

The actual experience of Timmy’s loss of freewill, and thus his freedom, will be determined by the tone, the timbre, the will, and the intent of his mother, who is casting the word spell at him!

If Timmy’s personal shields are up, (shields made of pure love), he can deflect the power of this word spell and most likely negotiate his freedom back to a certain extent! If he has not generated his own shields of love, the word spell will take effect and his freedom is gone!

The commonality of all of these words above, as said, earlier is the ‘ust’ sound!

The “ust” sound, when added to different leading symbols of sacred geometry, (each of which has a special meaning), and then “cast” into the ethers really does create vibrational “decay” in various ways, due to the nature of the leading geometry, and the vibration of the sound being propagated.

Recapping old territory here: The spoken word has both vibration and color. The color of the ‘ust’ sound is not pretty to look at.

So again, when we look at the word “must” – There has to be “decay” somewhere in this word, because the whole purpose of the “ust” sound is to indicate a presence of decay.

Following along with this line of thinking, if a sacred sound “indicates decay”, then also by natural law, it will also have to “create” that decay in real time, if it is used or CAST as a spelling at someone.

This happens (because in the higher realms or frequencies), there is NO DIFFERENCE between “intent” and what that intent will actually “create”.

There is no time lag between “thought” and the “manifestation of thought” in the higher frequencies. They are one and the same. Intent is literally “creation’s engine.”

Therefore, if one repeats this ‘spell’ or ‘spell’ing enough times by speaking it, it actually creates the vibration of decay wherever you are casting (speaking) it.

THAT is why our enslavers GAVE US language in the first place, (after they disconnected our ability to communicate telepathically).

They taught us as little children (in things called schools) both the sacred geometry — and the sounds that go with that geometry, so that when we cast these ‘spell’ings out into the ethers through our speech, we would then – by using them constantly – be creating for ourselves our own entrapment and enslavement!

They knew that what you “repeat often enough in your speech”, you would “create” without knowing it by having it eventually manifest into the world around you!

Remember this from scripture – when the “word” goes forth, creation begins!

So in conclusion – The very words that we are using daily actually create what we use them for.

So WE, (as very powerful beings, which are eternal, and formed from pure love and light), have been forced by our vicious enslavers, to use our OWN UNLIMITED POWER of creative force to assist THEM in keeping us enslaved.

The method here is simple: You take a great power or force, and then turn it BACK ON ITSELF! This “crime” by the way – is totally against COSMIC LAW.

So, knowing what you know now, consider the next word: Trust!

People think that “trust” is a very good word, but is it really?

It has the “ust” sound which indicates decay. Interestingly, “Trust” (also a Banking Term) can mean a place or construct where the magicians hide monetary value.

They put it in a “TRUST”!

Which is why ALL BANKS tell us to place our TRUST in them.

If we place our “trust” in another human being, or some other institution like Government for instance, or the Police, or the Courts, or especially Judges for instance, to always do what’s “right”, without first learning all we need to learn about them, then the very word “trust” becomes a DECAY of ones own Wisdom!

So here is where the “decay” can be found within this word: Too much “trust” is the decay of personal power, personal growth, and the knowledge and wisdom that comes from learning things for one’s own self!

If we “trust” all of our politicians to always do what’s right, without watching them closely – then that is not wise. “Trust” finally, indicates a strong decay in our very ability to know what we are getting into — if we do NOT do our homework!

As I also mentioned, a “Trust” is a kind of financial haven for many people with money. People put their money into “Trusts”, but when that money is in a Trust, it is not doing anything useful for the planet, so then its creative possibility for POSITIVE USE is “decaying” in real time while it sits there doing nothing.

Now that you are getting the hang of it —

Consider the words “just” and “justice”, realizing these very words were given to us to use by our enslavers.

These words indicate decay, because of the “ust” sound being cast.

Justice (in our world) is the continuous decay of our freedom, simply because “to bring someone to Justice”, usually ends in incarceration. We now have MORE PEOPLE in jail in the United States of Corporate America than every other country of the world put together! We don’t need Justice/Incarceration; we need BALANCE.

So we can see that we certainly have lots of “Justice” going on in America; however, we also have less and less people who are free. If the truth were really faced and dealt with – we would be appalled to know that millions of millions of young adults have been incarcerated for holding a “plant” in their hands. Maybe we should be casting a different “spelling” into the ether to achieve a better result.

Remember, that our language was given to literally entrap us by those who think they OWN us.

Isn’t it interesting that the head of the Supreme Court in Corporate America, is called the “Chief Justice”, or more correctly, the chief reason for all the vicious decay happening in America.

So to repeat then — what we really want to do is not bring people into Justice, but instead bring them into oneness, or into unity, or into love. If we cast these “spellings” all the time, then we as a group will create far better results for both ourselves and our world. But we would need to know which words to use and how to use them properly.

Now consider these words:

Frost
-Lost
-Cost

These words indicate something missing or lacking

Frost is the lack of warmth
-Lost is the lack of direction
-Cost is the lack of knowledge (as in: not knowing the truth really cost him dearly)

So the “ost” sound indicates lack. (With me so far?)

For comparison, We have these two words which look similar but sound different than cost and lost.

Host
-Ghost

But notice that these words, even though “spelled” the same, don’t sound the same as frost and lost, why not? Who decided that “host” and “lost” should not rhyme, or have the same sacred sound? This is not accidental. There are no accidents.

Here you have two magic “spellings” that have similar geometry, “ost”, but they sound differently. So it stands to reason that in certain magic spell-ings, it was determined by the enslavers that you need to place a slightly different sound onto the very same geometry, to get a “slightly” different desired effect in the creative vibration that it would then manifest by the person using that spelling.

The most important thing you can know from all of this however, is that BOTH sound and vibration, projected into the ethers, are creative in different ways. So please be careful of the words that you use, because each word “spell” casts a very different vibration! What you need to know is that sound and vibration are all part of the magical creation of our planetary “reality” which I am going to say is A MAGNETIC HOLOGRAM! This will be explained in deeper detail as we move along.

The work of the now very Famous Japanese Scientist who recently passed away – Masaru Emoto, was invaluable in showing us the deep truth that word vibration actually affecting living things and living tissue on a microscopic level. He took pictures of frozen water crystals “after talking to them” and found that those tiny molecules of water that were spoken to lovingly were exceedingly beautiful, and those water molecules which were hated and verbally abused, were totally ugly and dis formed!

Here is a link to his website, complete with pictures!

h ttp://www.masaru-emoto.net/english/water-crystal.html

Finally, this should truly help you to understand that reality IS ALWAYS CHANGEABLE! Right in front of us, the words that we are casting, as proved beyond any doubt by Emoto’s scientific research, are actually CREATING CHANGES IN REALITY!

By the very words we speak daily, we cast vibrational changes into the fabric of the magnetic hologram, which will then reflect changes in the REALITY that we are seeing.

Casting “spellings” are actually using magic powers! Which is why the spoken word is always used in occult magic spells in the first place.

Now let’s go back to “ust”. What about “bust”?

If you “bust” something, it’s broken. Then it can decay. But lately, a women’s ******* have also come to be labeled “her bust.” Do you think this was accidental?

If the NWO intends to get rid of the divine feminine as a part of their over-all take over the world agenda, then her ******* (as a sacred symbol) would need to get “busted”, in order to “supernaturally” get rid of the symbol of femininity within the construct, so these days, ******* have suddenly became known as busts in common or slang vernacular.

In this way, magically, the symbol of her femininity gets broken, by casting a serious “spell” of DECAY at them.

Behind all of these machinations of “world control” are dark magicians who really do understand the OCCULT and HIDDEN knowledge of both frequency and vibration! It is they who cast a dark “spelling” on all females by putting a new slang word into our vocabulary, so that we are then using that word for her *******. “Bust” both indicates and creates “decay” due to the “ust” sound.

How many women especially in the US (where this word is very prevalent) are now experiencing breast cancer?

And, most probably, many of them refer to their ******* as busts.

(They should simply say breast instead.)

Now, before I get ANY PROTESTS about how this could happen, (inserting a new slang word into our vocabulary) just know that these master magicians have huge amounts of the population of our world ALREADY under mind control. Doing something like this is far easier than you think. Adding a new slang term into the mass consciousness for them is actually quite easy. It’s as easy as a corny TV show in prime time. Or, a popular radio show on the long drive home, or a large road side advertising sign in just the right place to change how we as a group think.

Also notice that those who call themselves the elites – always use different words than the ones “the commoners” are TAUGHT to use.

They pride themselves on their far more expanded vocabulary. But is it just pride, OR, are they avoiding using certain words that they know are only for “the commoners” to use?

Finally, let’s stay with “ust” and look at one more word – dust.

Here again, “ust” is used to indicate decay. Dust is “decayed matter” in micro-particles.

In the Catholic Church, during their long holiday called “lent”, which in and of itself is an intere
Source from link above as given.
h ttps://bradleyloves.wordpress.com/2015/08/13/the-great-con-of-man-esoterics-the-supernatural-magicians-mind-control-and-the-new-world-order-4/
Craig Morey Mar 2019
When you’re entering into a relationship,
Whether it’s with a best friend or a lover,
The one thing that is imperative,
Is that you have to trust each other,

Trust is very hard to gain,
But it’s equally as difficult to lose,
Everyone could tell you to give up on them,
Trust will always make you refuse,

But even though it’s incredibly strong,
It still has elements of fragility,
Trust betrayed hurts that much more,
And there’s no form of recovery,

Because once it’s gone it’s gone forever,
No power on earth can bring it back,
And though the relationship may survive,
What was once flawless, now has a giant crack,

Because before you trusted every word they said,
Now you start thinking you may have been blind,
Because once they’ve taken your trust for granted,
There’s no way to get the doubts out of your mind,


So before you betray that person,
By taking advantage of their trust,
Remember for both of you to be happy,
Then trust it is a must,

And when you both share your trust,
It’s a sign of true solidity,
And the few out there that have mine,
You mean the world to me,

And I trust that you won’t break it,
And know if you place your trust in me,
I’ll cherish your trust with all my heart,
I’ll do anything in my power to be worthy,

Because there’s nothing more reassuring,
Than the understanding of a mutual trust,
But then there’s nothing quite as devastating,
As watching as it crumbles into dust..............
DC raw love Feb 2015
who does one really put their trust in
if anyone at all

what makes us trust someone
do you feel you can trust someone

most of us can't even trust ourselves
yet think about putting trust in another

TRUST

reliance on the integrity,
strength,
ability,
surety,
etc.

confident expectation of something, hope
a person on whom or thing on which one relies


the obligation or responsibility imposed
on a person in whom confidence or authority is placed
a position of trust

charge, custody, or care
to leave valuables in someone's trust

my trust comes from one

GOD

my trust in him
gives me trust
SpiritHeart67 Apr 29
We look for the things we fear, are uncertain of, or doubt; in our relationships, job, children, partner.
Sometimes if you look hard enough, you will find those exact things in places where they do not actually exist.
Other times they may exist in places you never expected to find them.
The ONLY counter measure to fear, uncertainty & doubt is love, faith & trust.

If our trust in others is based only on what we think THEY have earned, created, or are worthy of , we will most often be left
blind-sighted and half-blinded.

The moment I base my ability to  trust solely on others actions, words, choices, I have relinquished control of the outcome & my state of being to the other person.

When I make a personal choice to trust despite of or outside of these things, I own the outcome, not them.

If that trust is betrayed, it is not something done TO me, making me a victim, but something I chose, on my terms.

In choosing & owning the act of trust, we make it our own, we drop our fears & our dependency on others for our well being.

We free ourselves from their actions & choices, which allows us to clearly see, face & deal with our own.

Trust is a choice. Either granted or earned, to trust another is to actively CHOOSE trust & faith over doubt & fear.
Ultimately, making that choice to trust transforms you.

It is the ACT of trust itself that matters, changes your life, NOT whether or not it was well placed.

It is not the betrayals of others that define us, but whether or not WE are willing, brave & strong enough to RISK being betrayed, to RISK trusting.

It is in the active choice of trust, love & faith that we find our own truth, self, nature & even at times our redemption & salvation.
Just saying, when you ***** up and give your trust to the wrong person, don't beat yourself up too bad...
Rina139 Jan 2016
Your words begin to mean nothing to me,
You continue to lie under your breath.
Had me convinced that you were different,
Yet here I am, with a broken trust.

My heart torn out from the center of my chest,
Ripped into a million pieces.
You promised me over and over
That you would change for the better.

But I soon came to realize
That you're no different than the first time we met.
Each event replayed itself,
And each time you betrayed me.

Again I am standing here in this empty hole,
Listening to the echoes of your promises fade away.
I really thought you would change for me,
I really believed that you cared for me.

Oh, how wrong I was
To put my trust in the likes of you.
The pain I am feeling now
Is the pain I'll forever retain.

Over and over again,
I am left with nothing.
No matter what I do,
I always get the blunt end of the stick.

Normally I would say I'm to blame,
But sadly I do not deserve this claim.
My eyes have reopened
To never again let you gain my trust.

In the world we live in now
Has very little, if any,
Able bodies that I can trust,
Is it so that only I can earn this trust?

I don't believe I'll ever truly understand the meaning of trust.
I won't live by this word,
For its meaning is far too easily broken,
And very difficult to fix.

No longer will I allow trust to govern my life,
No longer will I allow your love in my life.
I stand here alone,
With a broken trust.

My last words to whom it may concern,
My trust in you was a privilege.
You continued to break the very string
That held my trust for you.

In the end,
You betrayed me with more than I can say,
Left me
With a broken trust and a broken heart.
ryn Jan 2015
.
     ...is a fragile little thing,
     that most tend to overlook.
     Small word with a **** big meaning.
     Some may uphold it; some may
     conveniently have it mistook...

Trust...
     ...is in the grasp of the unknown
     stranger,
     that helps you up when you've fallen
     down.

Trust...
     ...is the pact between you and the cab
     driver,
     as he takes you to where you want to
     be, across town.

Trust...
     ...the bough on which your swing does
     sit.
     Pray that it doesn't break as you enjoy
     its joyous ride.

Trust...
     ...your cook, hoping in your food he
     doesn't spit...
     Especially when you've provided
     feedback that scuffed his pride.

Trust...
     ...lays exposed when the keys to your
     house you surrender,
     to your neighbour who'd keep an eye
     while you're away on a retreat.

Trust...
     ...exists latent in the open palm of your
     caregiver...
     As a child you'd take his hand so he'd
     ferry you safely across the street.

Trust...
     ...is the unspoken oath that I had thought
     we both held sacred...
     When I spilled the contents, my heart
     couldn't bear much longer.

Trust...
     ...meant nothing when you took it all for
     granted,
     when you weakened and succumbed...
     ...and then shared with another...
apathy Jun 2013
trust is filled and spilled,
its lost and gained,
its stolen and given
and still, i trust no one

every single time i trust someone,
they hurt me
so why do i trust at all?

somethings are broken,
but sometimes,
they never get fixed

how do i trust someone,
when all they ever do is hurt me?

its like a loop,
it constantly terrorizes me,
at first,
i don't trust you, out of fear,
out of insecurity,
but then i let you in,
ever so slowly,
and then, when i'm not noticing,
you turn it all around,
you hurt me.
you hurt me over and over again

when i'm done with being hurt,
i move on,
just to find someone else to be friends with,
to trust,
and then to get hurt by all over again

i thought at 15,
your supposed to learn how to cook,
how to go out in the real world,
to prepare for college or your future
but i'm not learning that,
i'm learning how mean people can be

so, Kayla,
Sarah,
Haley,
Kelsey
Miss Shaddock,
and now Emmaliegh,
how do i trust again?

all you ever did was hurt me,
was it really that hard just to be a good person?
why did you hurt me?
i thought i could trust you,
now, i trust no one,
and that's because of you
Just Alice Dec 2014
There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Created her own prison
Locked all the doors so she couldn’t get out
She sat on the corner
Hid in the shadows
Together with the monster
She has become

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Found by a wanderer
Who saw her on the tiny crack on the wall
“Open the door and let me in,” he said
“I’m just a boy, what harm could you get?”
She stayed in the dark
Too scared to respond
Too afraid to open her heart

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Still terrified to open the door
But the boy had enough charm
To tear the walls down
He entered her life as if it was a walk in the park
Pulled her out of the shadows
And held her in his arms

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
But wore her heart on her sleeve
For the boy oozing with charm
Was able to earn her trust with just a smile
“Beautiful,” he called her
Reminding her of her worth
Promising the repeat it again and again until he could no longer speak

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Who trusted a boy who made a promise
Trusted a boy who made a promise
A boy who made a promise
A promise
To call her beautiful
Until he could no longer speak

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Who believed in a boy who called her beautiful
He didn’t lose his voice
Only lost his sight
To the girl he once promised to
Love for the rest of his life

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Who no longer believed that she could be loved by another
For he didn’t just break his promise
But also break her heart
When he found another
Girl to call beautiful

There once was a girl who’s too afraid to trust
Created her own prison
Locked all the doors so she couldn’t get out
She sat on the corner
Hid in the shadows
Together with the monster
She has become
Sylph Nov 2018
Dont blindly trust a light
Assuming its safe

Dont blindly trust a stranger..
Gods a stranger to me..
Can i trust him?

Love is new for me
..Is that okay to blindly trust?
Trust till i have a reason not to?
Or just stay on the safe path
Where there supposedly less pain
I dont know..

Trust is so valuable
And such a privilege
And painful to loose

If you have the trust from another
That most seek
Take care of it
Its important.

If you trust someone
Take care of that too
Dont just put it all there
And give it to anyone
But give enough so they can feel it

Take chances
But still be cautious
Trust
But dont let anyone betray it
You trust is worth more then that
As is theres

Dont always blindly trust
Blind trust..I dont know why but poems trust seem to catch my attention most
To trust is to give yourself wholly to someone
You have no secrets
You have no wall in which you hide behind and cry
You have nothing to protect yourself from the times when your guards down

Your defenseless if they want to hurt you
You are weak if you trust some say
You let yourself open to someone
Which sometimes makes it hard to be brave

Why would you let this person into yourself?
Welcome them with open arms
Why let them have ammunition to hurt you with?
It's like you have given them a loaded gun
Why would you let them have that much power over you?

That is stupid
So stupid but humans are stupid
They let themselves trust
Let their love for another bring them to their knees

I was stupid enough to trust
That person let me down
Now I know that trust is stupid
I'm stupid for loving again

For letting my hopes get up
Because they always crash and burn
And it takes years for me to pick up all the tiny pieces of my heart
I know now I can't trust
I just can't anymore

Everyone in the world find it impossible to not hurt each other
To take the trust & break it
To exploit the trust that was bestowed to them
To hurt

Because that's
What people do
That's why I can't trust
Not anymore
pookie Mar 2016
In life we trust many things to many people,
In life we trust that our decisions are made for the right reasons,
In life we trust.

But is that trust mislaid,
When did we lose trust in us,
Us! Ha us is humanity,
When did we lose trust in ourselves,
When did trust become fear.

What are we,
What are we made for,
Why do we feel,
Why do we have the ability to think,
Why do we have the ability to trust.

In life we trust and get broken by our selves and other by humanity.

In death we let go and finally we trust for real becuase we know that it's all over.
A sad thought it came to me that we trust so much that fear to lose that trst or it was already broken so we fear instead.
Anjana Rao Nov 2014
How do you begin
to talk about trust,
when every thought
that swirls around in your brain
has additional questions
attached to it:
                         is it real?
                         is it made up?
                         is it rational?
                         is it an overreaction?
                         is it temporary?
                         is it permanent?
Tangled root systems
of the same questions,
for every thought.

And I haven’t even
started on
Feelings,
[that’s a different poem
altogether].
-
How do you begin
to talk about trust
when, for starters,
you can’t trust yourself.

Grow up,
with silence
and
shrugged shoulders
and
the helpless statements of:
I don’t know, I don’t know, I just don’t know,
in response
to all your scientific parents’ questions –
questions peppered with
“logical”
and
“rational”
and
“you understand where we’re coming from
…right?”

and
eventually,
every time you think or feel anything at all
and have no explanation,
you’re left with one question:
                                                        how can you not know?
                                                        how can you not know?
                                                        how can you not know?
-
Say a word enough times
and it starts to lose its meaning:

trust
trust
trust
trust

Is it even a word,
or just a lucky combination of letters?
-
How do you begin
to talk about trust
when you’ve been let down
not once, not twice, not three times…

well, what’s the point of trying to recall,
when you’ve lost count of the times.

It would be one thing,
if you knew
why you’ve been abandoned,
or why people hurt you,
or why everything gets to you so often,
                                                                       [is it you or is it them,
                                                                        is it you or is it them,
                                                                        is it you or is it them?]
but it’s the not knowing
that makes you realize
that people as a whole
are:

Unpredictable,
Unreliable,
Untrustworthy.

You’re not usually too angry about it,
this is just Reality.
-
This is just Reality, but
it’s the not knowing
that kills you,
closes up your heart
in a certain kind of way
after a while.

Oh,
you’ll talk to people,
if you must,
say whatever seem to be the right things,
be the listening ear they need,
if that’s what’s required of you,
be good, understanding, kind, empathetic,
to the best of your ability,
but you won’t Rely on them,
won’t accept statements of
I can help.
That’s a different story.
-
If you can’t trust
People.
[Forget about your family, the ones who supposedly love you,
with their helpful advice of “get a job, be useful, it’ll make you feel better.”
Forget about the docs and therapists, the ones who supposedly make it better,
with pills or overpriced talking sessions.
Forget friends, the ones who supposedly are your support system,
with “I’m here for you” and “I can help” that lead nowhere.]
then what you are left with
is trusting yourself
out of necessity.

And you’re back to where you started.
Today my therapist asked me to write about trust and I hate writing prompts but I can write poetry and I can write about my trust issues for pages upon pages so this is what I came up with, and I figured I might as well post it here since this is basically my sad poetry site.
valencia May 2019
September

from dust and broken glass, from silver and stone, an army arises from their shallow graves. and to this day, no one can remember that this is how it all began.

demons run when a good man goes to war.
that’s what they have always told me. there haven’t been any good men here for a while then, because I can still see demons lurking around corners like shadows.


there have always been things in my life I have learned not to question. you do not doubt the stars in the sky, the ground beneath your feet, or the strength of the northernland. we do not question the northernland.

i like to ask myself questions-
after the sky fell, who gathered it all up and put it back in the sky?
they won’t tell us in school.
when the sky fell, what did the stars taste like?
i think it would taste like fire and pain and sugar, like drinking lighting hot lemonade in the summer.
we don’t ask in school.

thursday



there has never been enough. money, food, water. in school, they teach us about the war. the war has no name, it is just the war. maybe it will someday. no one dares to name it. you do not name the devil.

we bow to the throne of the northernland, unaware that is was born of lies. the cameras are our leader now. they are all we have ever known.

on Sundays we go to church and pray. the crosses will never hang right and are always turning upside down and the priest is always looking pale. we all look pale, now. the cloud of dust from northernland blocks out the sun most days.


friday
I went to Lou's house today. she has a red front gate and ivy growing in her garden. we kicked a deflated kickball around for a bit, but she kept looking over her shoulder. she pretended to drop the ball behind her but couldn't bend down to grab it because her arm is broken, so I went over. tears were hiding beneath her eyes, but she did not say anything. then her dad came out and watched us play. i didn’t like his smile, it was too wide.




when i wanted to go home, he offered to walk me home. i said i could do it by myself. wouldn’t want you to get into trouble he said, somehow smiling wider. lou made herself laugh and smiled too, but it wasn’t a real smile. as we walked home, he didn’t turn his head away from me, even to cross the street. i looked deep into his pupils, which were so wide they covered the colored part. i swore i could see someone behind them, watching. i didn’t say anything. after i went into my house,
he stood out front for a long time, watching. then i heard. shout from the basement but the door was locked as always so i got scared about that instead and when i looked out front again he was gone.

saturday

today in school i fell and skinned my knuckles. the blood that came was strange, reddish-orange. teacher grabbed my hand and bandaged it right away before i could get a good look at it. she said you mustn’t tell your mother.


teacher doesn’t know that mother went to go live in the White Building, a place for people who hear voices and don’t like the government and have to be restrained so they don’t hurt people. i don’t say any of this, i just nod my head ok.

sometimes i worry, about alistair. he’s a gravedigger and everyday when he comes home he looks so empty. he won’t tell me why he’s so sad but once i heard him tell canary that the graves just get bigger everyday and then after a long time he said but there are always to many bodies

i tried to listen more but he found me behind the wall and when i asked him why there were so many bodies he said there’s a sickness, that’s all
then after that teacher made us all wear cottons masks that are itchy and make it hard to breathe.


sunday

on the telly today the man in the suit announcer we had another victory but i don’t understand how we can have victories without winning the war. the man in the suit tried to show a picture but all we saw was a blurry mess because alistair said sometimes things can’t be shown on the telly but i don’t know why. i doesn’t make sense why they would restrict anything anymore. we now what it looks like. a flat landscape paved with bodiesaccented with blood.
we aren’t supposed to know about that though.

in school, teacher tells us there have been no casualties of the war. but only when principal is watching. when he’s not she’s stuffs our coats beneath the crack and the door and tunes the telly to a different station- one that’s fuzzy that she has to hold a hanger to in order for us to see anything. and she’ll flip back and forth between leader of the northernland and say this is propagandam  and then turn the **** back to the man in the suit, and then say this is the truth

i don’t know why teacher tells us these things.

monday

listen- do you hear it? i can hear planes buzzing overhead. teacher says to ignore it. teacher says we aren’t supposed to hear.
alistair never lets me go in the basement. he keys the key round his neck, even when he’s sleeping. he says it’s dangerous down there. but i’ve always been too curious- that’s what principal says. he looks at me with those stern different colored eyes and says curiosity killed the cat every time ms. hoth brings me to his office for doodling. i still have no idea what a cat is. cardeully, he erases my drawings and put the paper neatly into his desk. we waste nothing here. go home is all he says. but i know what he means. walk home in silence and do not ask questions, do not look behind curtains and do not wander off.

today mari has her birthday party. her mum wasn’t there. i can tell lou noticed because her eyes were scanning the room all strange, but she didn’t say anything. i didn’t ask. mari looked all scared and the camera of the ceiling fan hadn’t moved from her in a long time. i wondered who was watching her.

later, mari pulled me beneath her bed. i tried to say something but she covered my mouth with her hand. they’ll take me for telling you
was all she said.
but i have to tell someone.

i knew the feeling.
after a long time she took her hand off of my mouth and said mums in the garden








while she opened her presents, the mandatory ones from the northernland that are no fun, i tried to look out the window to see her mum. the only thing i could see in the garden was a pile of freshly turned earth. lou caught me looking and grabbed my wrist. she said you mustn’t look.


tuesday
when i come home there is a woman sitting at the kitchen table, and with her there are four ravens. she is royal, i can feel it in the way she sits and breathes and just exists. she looks at her hands and then at me. but this lady is not a guardian angel, like the kind canary says is always looking out for us. i am not an angel. she says. she is not from the northernland, but not from here either. i know is all i say, because i am not alarmed that she is here and that there are cameras and that she does not belong. i know she is not real. and she says i am a godess. i do not doubt her. she sits up, and puts the ravens about her in her hair and on her shoulders and the like. this is an omen. i nod, because why else would a goddess be at my kitchen table? and then she is gone because she was never really there, and i wash my face and make sure i am no longer seeing people that are not there, because i don’t want to go live in the White Building like mum.


wednesday

they are always watching us at recess- we mustn’t stand or walk anymore. we have never been allowed to run. there are cameras everywhere now, too. they see everything like a great waking monster that never sleeps. i thought i would feel safe with the cameras, but the back of my neck feels prickly like there’s somebody standing behind me and when i spin around and look the mushroom is empty except for me.

the only place there aren’t cameras is under alistair bed. i go and hide there sometimes, just to forget the feeling of being watched. that’s where i read the stories that alistair’s written. in them, he talks about a sky as blue as the ocean.
i have never been to the ocean. i remember the sky used to be blue, but never really. now it is a sickly grey.
canary caught me looking at the sky once and pushed my head down. she said don’t let them catch you looking or they’ll put cameras in your eyes.
i believe her.

wednesday

today we went to mandatory meeting, where they passed out rations. there is always less and less then there was last time. while we were there they made us watch a video where the leader of the northernland talked about how well we were doing in the war and how this would almost be over soon. he also reminded us that if we were past curfew there would be serious punishments.
for rations we got a red powder called kool-aid that you mix with water to make juice. we also got a loaf of white bread, a browned banana, circular crackers and a warm jacket. alistair took the jacket and left for work.

canary always looks worried. ever since mom went bonkers i haven’t seen her not wearing her worry lines. i can’t believe she’s only six years older than me. to alistair that doesn’t seem like a long time. to me, six years is an eternity. as long as a war.

canary watched alistair go at the window for a long time, long after he disappeared into the fog. then, all of a sudden, she turned around and said i’ll help you with your homework. i didn’t tell her that i knew how to multiply fractions. mom always used to say that if you were busy you weren’t worried. canary made me a cup of red juice and her hands shook so much she dropped the glass.
pity, that was our last one. it seemed to shatter in slow motion, and i could see every piece break slower and slower.

the day seemed to go by slowly, the cold sleeping into my bones and making me sleepy. i wa so thirsty, so thirsty. i wasn’t allowed anymore water till friday though. if you drink to much of it at once you get sick. i begged canary to let me drink from the stream in the garden but she wouldn’t. it’s black and thick, and smells like nail polish.

the last time i punted my nails was for dads funeral. i remember canary used her last bottle of nail polish to paint my fingers black, so as not to have anybody see the dirt under my fingernails. it didn’t matter, in the end. we were the only ones who attended.

canary is flying together the pieces of the glass with tacky glue. i can’t bear to tell her that all the glue in the world would never be enough. the shards are too small. she’s fills it back up with red juice and fora moment all is well, but then the glass can’t take it anymore and collapses with force into her hands. kool-aid runs down her fingers like blood. intermixed is real blood, from the cuts the glass left. she looked at it for a long time, letting the blood run down her fingers like that.

then she said what a waste

november

alistair is sick. principal gave us ibuprofen but all it does it make him feel empty. he begs us not to give him more but it’s the only things that will take his fever down. he thrashes in bed and screams ****** ****** and i worry he is going to be like mom, always seeing things and hearing things. maybe he can go live with mom in the White Building. mom would like that, if she could remember alistair.

i have been sleeping at school, because canary doesn’t want me to get sick. the dorms are cold and empty and heavily sanitized. i miss canary and i miss alistair but canary won’t let me come home. i don’t know what she would do if i was sick. so i stay. and every night, i say to myself i hate the northernland i hate the northernland i hate
but i say it in my head,  because i am worried they will come for me.
sometimes i worry about canary getting sick. she says promise i wont, sunshine but i know she never worries about herself. teacher gave me flowers to send to alistair. the card says “get well soon” it has been a long time since i have seen real flowers. most are fake, like the ones teacher sent alistair. i don’t mind. it’s the sentiment that is important.





sunday

today at church preacher said and let us pray for our sick
they have stopped re adjusting the crosses. the remain upside down and no one looks. except me. i was looking, while we were supposed to be praying, but canary pushed my head down and said  pretend you can’t see them.
that’s  when i knew she sees things too.

saturday
i remember when i came home from school and found mum. there was paper all over the house, because she’s been doing her drawings. it was on the walls and floor and crinkled up under the boxes, all pictures of the northernland and the pastor and everything. and she said there is no god. there is no god. there is no god. alistair covered her mouth but it was too late, the northernland men were already here. she drew here pictures more violently scribbling and slashing with my art pencils. she drew alistair and canary and father, but not me or her. there was lump in my throat. she picked a new piece of paper and drew god, above us all, but she kept saying there are no gods there are no gods there are no gods, and she slashed and scribbled at the paper, and the northernland men were knocking, watching us through the cameras, and mum pulled me down next to her. i could see blood beneath my skin she held me so tight, and she had. a thousand stars in her eyes that were all spinning, saliva dripped down her chin and  she did not look my my mum anymore. she looked lost. she said the gods have abandoned us.


after the northernland men took her to live in the White Building, her drawings were left on the floor. alistair gathered them all up and threw them in the basement and locked the door. then he put the key around his neck. at least, i think that’s what’s in the basement. i have never told alistair, but i took the last drawing she did, of me and her and a boy. i stuck it with glue to the very back of my dresser drawer, so no one will ever find it. in the picture, my lips looks like there are sewn together with greenish yarn. this has always scared me. mums mouth is open and she is screaming, but there is no tounge inside her mouth. the boy looks normal, and he is holding my hand. this boy is not alistair. this has always scared me. this has always scared me. this has always scared me. it’s only a picture.



monday

i keep finding myself in that moment-
when canary broke the glass and cut her hands, spilling red juice and blood like lines on her hands. she sat there for a long time, just looking. maybe it’s stuck with me because she was just looking, when we’re never supposed to look.

the clocks tick slower and slower everyday.


tuesday

teacher wasn’t at school today. instead we have a woman with blinding hair and an accent from the northernland. nobody asked where teacher went.
we don’t want to know. the hanger and the telly were gone, too.

when i got home i was feeling really sick with tears. i told alistair they’ve taken teacher. his eyes widened and he ****** his head toward the camera. canary dig her fingernails into my arm. of course they haven’t was all he said. that’s silly.

then he looked off into nothing for a long time. i just looked straight into the camera.


wednesday

at recess the northernland woman was acting real strange. she sat with us on the pavement and when the camera tune we it’s invasive x-ray eyes away she whispered your teacher has been taken by the northernland.

nobody said anything. nobody says anything, anymore. i think if we even spoke to many of us would cry. and then the cameras would look at us. so we just stared into space.
in our hearts, we already knew. but i still wanted to scream.


thursday

today was idyllic. sun came through the smoke and lit the sidewalk up orange. the woman from the northernland asked us what we would want if we could have any powers. almost everyone said healing. i said flying. maybe it’s because i’m selfish, all i want to do is fly away. but maybe it’s because i’m honest. i’m getting tired of not hearing the truth.

just to see if i could do it i ran all the way home. my feet seemed to leave the ground, its was as if i was actually flying every time i took a step. but then i landed and took off again.
i hadn’t run in a long time.
my chest seemed to hurt with a good  pain, if pain can be good.
i wanted to tell alistair but canary wouldn’t let me see him. i just need to you to get warm was all she said. over and over. but i’m boiling he said. it was quiet for a long time. it’s going to be alright. she said it again. twice. three times.

you know that feeling when you feel sick to your stomach, not because of disease but of fear. and mixed up in that sickness are tears and realization and you feel weak and helpless.  that’s how i felt when they took mum. that’s how i feel now.

i don’t know why, but a sudden hatred for the northernland boils up in my stomach. i think i am going to be sick. i turn around and run, run as fast as i can until i am at a strange gravel alleyway hidden behind some trees. i rest there for a long time, looking into the darkness after the cliff face. i know where i am. i am in the abyss, a place forbidden so long ago by alistair i had never thought to come here. i don’t break rules, i just ask questions. but i am here. at the abyss. where nobody should ever be.

friday
death is a sense. just like touch or smell, death is a feeling. i could feel it in my heart. in my bones and in my veins. it crowded about our house like fog in the summer. and all i wanted in the world was for it to go away.

teacher today told us about the northernland, how it was kind and safe and loved it’s people. the lie seemed to cuddle in her throat. nobody has ever gotten kindness from the northernland. the northernland started the war and has starved and survieled us to no avail. i know there was a time before, but i do not understand how that could have been. but i still haven’t  made peace with the cameras.


the abyss is where people go to go crazy. your screams bounce off the walls of the hole, but you cannot see them because it does not have edges. you cannot see the bottom or the sides of anything, just darkness. then the northernland men in the gas masks come in their yellow trolley and take you away. the abyss is where the devil lives, in a bottomless hole to the middle of the world.







saturday

i met a boy who lives in the abyss. he is made of sunshine and glitter, and plastic and paint and peace and everything that is beautiful.

but he is not really there. instead, he is almost see through. sometimes he is there and sometimes he is not. i know he isn’t real, just an imaginary friend. i am not like mum, who saw imaginary people and thought they were becoming real.

i did not say much to enyo, instead i said the only thing i was thinking. saying it made me feel sick.

i think alistair is going to die.













as i said it, it echoed off the walls of the cliff.
suddenly it was all too much. i was all too much. my heart started beating fast and my mouth felt dry and i stood up. i didn’t mean to cry but i did, big wet tears the dried my skin. i don’t want him to die. i said over and over.
my words echoed against the cliffs, i didn’t  sound like me.
HE CANT DIE
i shouted. HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE  CANT


i woke up a long time later next to enyo. i looked into the void that filled the space between the cliffs and the beyond. i wonder of that’s where heaven is i said. i pointed into the nothingness that felt all consuming. enyo said nothing. he looked as empty as i felt.
a long silence later i said he’s not going to die is he? enyo looked me in the eyes for the first time and i realized his were a beautiful black, layer upon layer of black and brown. he said what do you fear more, the echo or the answer

but enyo was not there at all. he is only imaginary.




sunday

preacher came again to the house and said that alistair is better. that his fever had broken. i didn’t know fevers could break. i asked him about what being sick feels like, and he took me outside to the garden and we sat on the piles of rubble that used to be the neighbors. he said that your brain gets confused, and everything seems fuzzy and mixed up. i can’t help but think that must be awful for alistair, he was always orderly.

monday
today mari has her birthday party. her mum wasn’t there. i can tell lou noticed because her eyes were scanning the room all strange, but she didn’t say anything. i didn’t ask. mari looked all scared and the camera of the ceiling fan hadn’t moved from her in a long time. i wondered who was watching her. i know who was watching her.


tuesday

i go down to the cliffs, but enyo isn’t there. schools closed for sanitization, so i have nothing to do.  i swing my legs off the edge for a long time. i don’t dare say anything, i hate how it echoes back. i look deep into the bottom but i can see nothing.  it is only darkness. something at the bottom feels like is calling to me, tugging at me to come. i turn my back.
was this before or after the preacher came? i am trying to remeber in order, tell you this story radially like teacher says.

i go home and canary’s there waiting at the window. she says here i’ll help you with your homework. no, no, no NO NO NO NO NO NO. that did not happen after, that happened before.

i can hear the ticking of the clock in my ears, slowing down.
maybe i’m going crazy.


wednesday
i’m sitting on a bench, but i cannot remember where. enyo is beside me and he is talking. in my chest i feel something strange, like it is moving and jumping. i feel queasy but it also feels nice.
i look over and he’s bleeding, golden blood from his eyes and mouth running down his chest. i want to scream but it stops in my throat. enyo puts a finger to my lips and the scream goes away.

he isn’t bleeding anymore. we’re holding hands. are we holding hands? teacher tells us not too, it will make us sick. but enyo is different. enyo doesn’t go to school. i feel as if my hands are sweating but it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t say anything.





i wake up cold. it felt so real, it all felt so real. my arms feel heavy.
i’m alone on a bench by the abyss. smoke fills the air and makes it hard to breathe.

friday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all. i remebemer becaus lou told me while alistair was sick. but that was days ago. i am sorry, it’s just so hard to tell the story in the proper order. my head hurts.

tuesday
i’m sorry if i cross out bits, it’s just that as i understand more i change the words. doctor says to stop doing this, but i want you to know the truth. the clocks are going slower and slower lately. alistair can’t work anymore, the preacher said so. i was going to tell him about enyo, how he is real now, not imaginary, but i didn’t know how. there aren’t words to describe him. looking at him makes crows beat their wings beneath my ribs, but i don’t know why. I sit with alistair after class but i can’t think of much to say. he doesn’t seem like my brother anymore, just a body lying on the floor.



thursday
doctor says i am defamilirazing myself, telling the story like it did not happen to me. telling it in all the wrong bits. i will try and tell it in the right order, but my head hurts. my head hurts so much. doctor won’t tell me why i need to explain, what the tape recorders are for or the make i have to wear the mask or why i’m here, what happened to my family. he won’t tell me why every time i say it like it was in the past and not happening right now he checks me for a fever. all he tells me is to start at the begging.

friday
the blonde woman from the northernland has a ring in her nose, but i do not know why. when i ask her she doesn’t seem to understand. she doesn’t talk anymore, either. just points at things on the board. i dreamt that she had her tounge cut off, but that was just a dream. the northernland would never do that to someone.

saturday
alistair is dead.
preacher says the disease took him, but i do not know which. the real sickness or the brain washing of the northernland. i think it was both, because the sickness made his brain weak so the mind-poisoners could break in. it’s okay, he wasn’t my brother anymore. doctor says that i never loved him.

sunday
church has ended and we are walking home, just arrived when our door opens. i wonder who would w at to come to this house, where the walls smell like death. the northernland woman is at our door, standing in the place the cameras cannot see her. she is smart. canary opens it and the northernland woman opens her mouth. there is no tounge or teeth, and the sides of her throat are black. i scream, so loud and shrill that i cannot believe that i am making this noise. my heart is in the center of the earth, fear running through my brain and i am screaming. canary covers my mouth. it doesn’t matter, the cameras were already looking.

canary pushed me to the floor and dragged me under the bed. i could feel the cameras following us the entire way. when she sat up, her pupils looked strange, the ways moms did when she ways seeing the people in the walls. anger seemed to hide in her voice, she was trying not to be loud but to me it felt like she was screaming, she had never thrown words that hit me like knives before. she told me never to scream or else the men behind the spying eyes of the camera would come for me. what would i do without you she yelled, but it wasn’t yelling it was crying. she help me close to her chest and i could feel her breathing and her heart beating, sparratic and short. she cried into my hair, until it was soaking wet with tears. this was when i knew canary was lost.

tuesday
enyo is in the void, just there. he is very pale today, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time. we have gotten to holding hands now. i have never held hands with anyone, and my fingers feel strange and clumsy. tecaher used to say that touching was against the rules, but i am so sick of rules that i am now glad to break them.
all at once, it occurs to me that there could be cameras here. there are cameras everywhere. i don’t know why this has never occurred to me before. suddenly i dont care, i want them to see. i stand up and scream as loud as i can.


thursday
after i screamed, no one came for me. even when i go back, i don’t feel safe anymore. i ruined the only place i felt safe.


saturday
enyo is gone. i go everyday and yell for him, but he left when i screamed. he is still missing. i’m worried for him, but at least i know the northernland has not taken him. a sick feeling in my stomach asks me if enyo was ever real. i know he was. but it is still there, pulling at my head. of course he was. i felt his skin, rough and broken. imagination can’t conjure up real people.
but then i think of mom. how her fever got so high she started to see people that weren’t there. my head hurts so much, like someone is trying to break out of jail in my skull. i am angry, for the first time in my life. enyo was my only friend, the only one who could see through the blanket of the northernland skies. i scream for him ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO, but i am not mad, i am crying and crying so much and loud that someone puts their hand over my mouth, but there is no one there. i am suffocating. i turn around and i can’t breathe, my vision is tunneling into the abyss.
i am sick.



someone is holding my body, but their skin is cold. i open my eyes but i can only see shapes. i am on the gravel and the sun is orange, just like always. i am alone. but can feel someone’s tears, touching my cheeks. i sit up as fast as i can, and i am seeing stars but i just need to look. we are never supposed to look but i am going to see.


the northernland is punishing me.
enyo is making me sick.


enyo is there beside me, crying. i have never seen him cry and something rises inside me, and all i want to do is put my arms around him, so i do. slowly he gets warmer and feels more solid. let the cameras watch, let them see.


sunday
im running, running by the tips of my feet and pushing me off the ground, i’m flying. i have to get home.  i think of the first time i ran, letvthe cameras watch, talked to enyo. all the times i’ve broken the rules. i has always hated the northernland, but i had witnessed something better. i had talked to enyo, heard stories of what it was like before. a hatred so strong curcdled beneath my ribs and made me want to punch someone. i ran and ran and ran and ran, shouting HE CANT DIE
i shouted. HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE  CANT.     he is going to die.






monday
i saw a raven in the wire pole today. it was big against the grey sky and he watched me as i walked into the house. i hadn’t seen a raven in a long time, so i turn to enyo to tell him he looks like a raven. he smiles, but he is. if there. enyo was never there.

wednesday
alistair has gone back to work, though i think he shouldn’t have. he tells me the symptoms of the disease when he gets home. headache,seeing things, bleeding from your insides. i play with the ring on my finger, trying not to ask if that’s what happened to mom. i open my mouth but a rock lives there, and i cannot move it without crying.


sunday
doctor tells me to get off the floor, that i can stand now. i stand up and he puts me on the table. he is old and pale, with shiny grayish eyes. tell me what happened to alistair he says. i do not understand. what happened to alistair?

friday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all. i remebemer becaus lou told me while alistair was sick. i go home alone, and cold. i feel like there is a little green man in my lungs running a garden hose. i think back to the time when i ran, the first time i broke the rules. nobody came for me.
i can’t run anymore, my arms feel heavy and when i cough thick red bloods comes out of my mouth. it must be the smoke. I go home, and canary is at the window. she is crying in reckless abandon, shamshing on the door with her fists. two men from the northernland are holding her back, and one hits over the head with a black stick. alistair is being carried out on a stretcher.
look what the northernland has done to my family. all for the sake of this stupid war. i can’t remember who we’re fighting and yet my sister and my brother have died for the cause.
enyo says they are not dead. but enyo is not there, he was never there.

wednesday
i screamed again. i know canary told me not to, that cameras would look into my eyes and into my head. but i saw the northernland man coming up the street in his yellow trolley, straight for lou’s house. when the door opens she is wheeled out on a stretcher. so i screamed, because lou is dead and the war with no name had killed her. the devil had killed her.

canary grabbed me as the camera looked at me, as every camera in the house was trained on me. there was a disturbance in her eyes i had never seen before, like she was not all there. she grabs my arms and is much stinger than she should be. she opens the basement door and i scream again, because now i know what’s in the basement.








more northernland men than i have ever seen are in the basement, and when the door opens they look up. somebody take sme from canary and i scream and writhe and kick, but they pull at my body until my skin tears.





when i wake up, i am holding very still, and i cannot move if i want too. doctor says this is called  paralysis. there is a very bright light and a searing pain, it’s hurts so much my body is burning. cascades of blood come down into my mouth, and someone is sticking my lips with pins. this hurts more than anything that  has ever happened to me. it hurts in a deep ache, not just on the surface, and my entire body wants to shudder. my lungs are filling up with blood, because it hurts to much to breathe.





saturday
when i wake up i am in my bed, in my house. more relief than i have ever felt washed over me, because it was just a nightmare.

i used to have nightmares where there was a man in my room, saying numbers out of order. but then preacher says that if i talk to god before bed and make sure my blood is pure of doubt for the northernland, then i will not have nightmares. this is why i have had this nightmare, because i was disbelief the northernland. i do not care, because it was only a dream. i will never hail the northernland.


my lips hurt, and i wonder if in the night i bit my lips because of the dream. that happens sometimes. i dress and get ready for school, and catch myself in the mirror before i go. i turn fully toward it to make sure i am not hallucinating. in the great horror of it all, i try to scream, but it stays in my throat. i cannot scream, or make any sound at all.

my lips are sewn shut with green thread.


friday
everyone at school is quiet. anna covers her mouth and big wet tears fall on the ground. mrs. hoth takes her to the office, and the cameras follow them all the way there. we say our pledge and do our arithmetic, but i cannot say anything. i hate the northernland.
i hate it, i hate it. and i realize this is why they have silenced me.
the northernland woman is gone, and a man in a yellow coat teaches us arthimatic.
the clock on the wall is barley ticking now.
lou sits at the desk in front of me, her hair greasy and skin pale blue. she turns round, just like the old days, but isstead of telling me what the answer is or who’s the cutest or any of the normal things, all she says is run. her mouth makes an o and she closes her eyes and rests her head on the desk.

when i blink, she is not there. i am alone in the classroom.


sunday
i go to church by myself, because i havent seen canary since she sewed my mouth shut. she is not my sister anymore, and i pretend i don’t care what happens to her in that basement.

when i get there preacher is not there, there is nobody there except the northernland woman. she comes and sits next to me and runs her fingers across the stitches. we pray together, even though we can’t say anything and there is no sermon. when we walk outside there is an officers car, and she is handcuffed an put in the back. the man who has taken her gives me a sticker, with a little white cloud on it. it says trust in the northernland. i do not trust the northernland. i do not trust anyone.
i run away as fast as i can and throw the sticker into the ground, but it still seems to follow me inside my head. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland.



monday
enyo is at the abyss, waiting. he says i am killing you. and i understand, it all makes sense now. but he is all i have now. if the only thing worth living for is killing me, that is what doctor would call dramatic irony. i do not feel dramatic, i feel used. the northernland has used me and used my family.


saturday
doctor says that when telling a story i need to define who is the antagonist and the protagonist. the antagonist is someone who antagonizes people. doctor says this means evil. this is hard for me to understand, because everyone is evil. this is not a story, and it does not have characters. the peoples i have met in my life are all complex and strange, evil and good and unpredictable. doctor says ok and that we will try again tomarrow.

thursday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.

friday

enyo is at the abyss, waiting. he says i am killing you. and i understand, it all makes sense now. but he is all i have now. if the only thing worth living for is killing me, that is what doctor would call dramatic irony. i do not feel dramatic, i feel used. the northernland has used me and used my family. doctor says to be thankful of the northernland, that they did not use me. i turn away from enyo because even though i love him, i am loyal to the northernland.
i am thankful to the northernland.
i am thankful to the northernland.
all hail, all hail.






love alistair
fire element
exposing government secrets
cult
enyo gets more real as he is dying.
preacher dies.
alistair goes crazy, then dies.
something in basement.
Very low IQ but the only one smart enough to see
enyo is a ghost
canary goes crazy and sews our mouth shut.
fall in love with enyo.
not told radially
told in sgememgs like cross cross
deep symboling
Jared Weber Apr 2016
You cannot trust a tree, because the tree, it cannot speak
A roof made by its wood, is bound to spring a leak
You cannot trust a tree, because the tree, it cannot think
A boat made by its wood, is eventually going to sink

You cannot trust a beast, because it’s nature isn’t tame
For the company of a beast, will only end in pain
You cannot trust a beast, because it can’t perceive
Having the company of a beast, what will you achieve?

You cannot trust machines, for machines are not alive
As machines do not have minds, therefore they cannot thrive
You cannot trust machines, for machines you can’t control
As machines don’t have ideas, therefore they have no soul

You cannot trust a man, even if he’s old and wise
For even the wary man, can ensnare you in his lies
You cannot trust a man, even if he’s honest and true
For even the decent man, will put himself before you

You can only trust yourself, because your mind is bold and free
You are not insincere like other men, or fragile like a tree
You can only trust yourself, you are gentle unlike a beast
And unlike machines you are alive, and that’s to say the least
Wrote this in class, hope it's inspiring for people

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