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Devon Brock Dec 2019
It’s fifteen below
And a fat buck lurches,
Spindle legged, four pointed,
And cardinal -
Fishtail and brake.

I don’t trust this road.
I don’t trust these tires.
I don’t trust these ditches,
Smoothed and driven with snow.

I’m a six-layered pig at the wheel -
Unsleek unchic -
But I’m warm, **** I’m warm,
And the road slides like pinstripe
On white gabardine.

And the waning moon,
The waning moon,
Low in the rise,
Gibbous and garish,
Scabbing a cloud,
Spills the whole thing blue.

I don’t trust the red eyes of mailboxes,
Always willing to dive the grill.
I don’t trust the farmer
That lives on the hill,
Behind the blue spruce line,
Behind the blue flickered window,
Counting on futures,
Clumsy as mittens,
Still as the finger drift
Thudding the glide
Like dull scissors
Snagged in gridded giftwrap guides.

I still taste the coffee
Down under the tar.

I trust my smokes.
Yes, I trust my smokes.
I trust my hat. I trust my boots.
I trust I’ll never find my roots.
I trust the jumpers, there in the trunk.
I trust every single roadkill thunk.
I trust every knuckled ill-advised ride
To tell me yes, oh yes, I'm alive, I’m alive.
saun hutchings Feb 2014
Trust. It's a big thing.
To trust someone is a hard thing.
To know that they trust you is an important thing
Just make sure that you know you're trusted.

To trust.
I shall take a step toward trust with all of you.
But there is a lot to be told.
my trust isn't given to many.

but i know that my trust will never be broken.
That is what is important.
To know that your trust will never be broken
Forever.
In the case of loving someone,
Don't trust them to never hurt you,
Trust them enough to know that they are only human and they are bound to err..
Trust them enough to give them freedom and space,
Trust them enough to know that their human nature can sin in anyway possible,
Trust isn't about perfection,
Its about knowing and accepting the fact that someone can sin against you or even hurt you but you choose to take the risk because you know that they are worth it,
Don't make trust a burden for anyone,
Trust simply and love truly..
Trust really isn't anything close to perfection,its just love being willing to get hurt cause it would be worth it.
jad May 2013
I trust much too easily
Much too frighteningly
Yet, if I could only trust one thing
If one day I became a cynic and grew senile
If only one place i were to place my trust
Then I trust only Future.
Past is manipulative,
He has only false consistency
He tells my mother he will have me home by 12
And I find my self spending the night.
Present is only sneaky
And finds joy in the fright that she gives small children.
Not to be trusted...
While the Future,
The Future is noble....
I believe to be trustworthy.
Always pulling through,
when the Present is stabbing you in the back.
The Future will always be there,
Pulling through on the promises made of a better tomorrow.
The Future is a rolemodel.
Guiding the Present on her path to righteousness.
The only one I trust is the Future.
Even now, when I trust everyone.
I only truly trust the Future.
Because the Future has control over everything,
We can conquer everything,
If only with trust in the Future,
The Future can end this poem
however would make the biggest impac.......
Jasmine Roper Apr 2015
I want you to
Trust me

Tell me your biggest fears
Your scariest dream
Your largest goal
Trust me

Trust me
With your feelings
With your secrets
With your heart

Trust me
Tell me things you fear to tell the others
Tell me what makes you mad
Tell me what makes you smile

Trust me
Show me your past
Show me your future
Show me your present
Show me you

Trust me
Entrust me with your life
Entrust me with your love
Entrust me with the big weights

Trust me
Allow me to guide you
Allow me to be your crutch
Allow me to help you
Allow me to trust you

All you have to do Is trust me
Adam Childs Dec 2014
Please don't ask me to trust
Because I trusted in places
Where most have never entered

Don't tell me to believe
As my belief was far greater
And deeper than you could know

As I tasted nectar
That told me
I could have anything
I wanted

A wind blew through me  
As though the Lord
Had whispered
Make A wish my son
And it will be so

But all came to nothing
And now the Genie has gone
And I am locked alone
In a darkened room

So don't ask me to follow
Your blind trust
As the blind fall

And when they are sensitive
They fall harder and deeper

So I will never follow
Your blind faith
And I reject your trust
To build a kingdom on
Distrust, distrust, distrust

And I carry and cradle her
Broken promises by people
And the Gods
Lay like rubble
Under my feet
And form my foundation

For really what is trust worth
If given so freely

Never will I follow blind faith
To falsely fly
As I will never trust
To become falsely great

But wait and wait
And when trust comes
TRUST IS GREAT

Shared moments , special friends
Contrasting the chaos

And when the flowers of
Faith blossom
They will be rare and sacred

Temples which only the
Silent may enter

But do not ask me to follow your trust
Trust me
Because I know the feeling of pain
Of betrayal

Trust me
Because I know how to feels to be lost
With no where to run

Trust me
Because I know how it feels
To want the pain to stop

Trust me
Because I know how hard it is to find someone to trust
what can you say about trust?
can you say that it is hard to come by
can you say that it is easy to do?
many people have difficulties with it
due to the past that they have
my problem with trust is that i love it
i tend to trust way too easily
no matter how much I've been hurt
i still choose to trust even more
for i hope i will never be hurt
hope that respect will always be there
that my secrets can stay secret
that my past doesn't leave their lips
but it's foolish to trust everyone
it's sad to be easily hurt again
to be sad at the fact i trusted them
then get disgusted at the site of my face
disgrace is the word in my heart
I must learn to trust them less
learn to trust my heart more
for not all friends are trustworthy
not all deserve my tears and trust
only my confidants can have as much
Samual Jan 2016
you kept me alive
i think
i think that was living
there was breathing, but there was no hope
and i really can’t blame you for any of this

but you can’t blame me for not wanting a future with you,
when you never gave me a future in the first place

and i can’t hate you, or forget you
i can’t be your stranger, i can’t be your regret
but maybe i already am

i don’t know if i love you
i know this is all i had, but nothing i want, so i why can’t i let go?
i’m beginning to think i trust you,

i thought if love meant trust, then trust meant love
but now,
i trust you not to worry about me
i trust you not to question me, not to understand me
i could tell you anything,
just because you wouldn’t care

i trust you,
i feel like,
one trusts a stranger
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2015
once rastafarianism entered language ploys with wittgenstein's language games in mind it misplaced pronouns, existentialists just dittoed the signifying moral singular with the un-signifying immoral plural; like i was partly holocaust bound, ha ha (example); cherub and a scotch bonnet of my opinion tingling a contest of: chilli v. pepper v. horseradish. let's just say i'm a plasterer rather than i.q. me as a drinker. slaps in chequers on a bench to sober up momentarily.*

trust the saxon, trust the saxon to speak worse german
than the bavarian, and entrust german to the turk
above the saxon; trust the audacious saxon to leave the alphabet's
diacritic out, to spell like a roman would, from the celtic netherlands of gloom
in scotch egg on a couch, the potato of them all,
trust them with audacity and vocabulary  to conquer the world:  
relieving us norse with ****** never mind
the geese of brazil; exact roman care for all dwindles and fibrous excesses,
conquer the world what have you,
at least you have black skin and opera sunsets
while i have white skin and grey clots of 7pm in september,
or as the censors announced:
rather my vanity than the proof of god,
rather me than you in the minotaur's prison of winding zigzag vocabulary;
you're left politico correct i have three thousand
longboats waiting, you're right i have the same number
awaiting wind and sail. trust the saxons among bavarians to do the following:
but you have the caribbean and that's worth more than kenya
in a 100m sprint. you have the caribbean and i'm african,
nuance the scandinavian proust waging war with
a burnt toothpick not giving enough warmth. each me of the lost tribe walks asking:
blondish in the sea i dare you to walk and reason
the heraclitean suburbia of the river of emptied housed-in arsons worth a life.
come alaskan winters come!
trust the saxons to conquer the world without a holy implied for empires
and lost tracts in order that the romans might utilise proper a and proper o
while the saxons in **** with normans and celts said:
we'll roman-speak about the amazon girlies while our girls party out
a craft of whitened cotton for champagne ship-sailed virginity!
trust the saxons to speak worse german thank turks in order to bind by migration
an island as a ship, and sail away sail away wondering
why the roots of other european nations used the goggles to speak
as much microscope as microphone when accenting
and, in so doing accepted dialectics rather than a pompous excess of fibrous ginger plastic
known as dialects: in england dialectics is known as dialects - caged owls elsewhere
didn't coo coo but mooed with gags in nostrils sneezing when snorkelling:
we say error in sussex and say wok cumin seed sizzle in essex;
close enough to be a cockney in hackney rhymes up a mango.
Amrita G Jan 2021
“He doesn’t even care to keep the knowledge of her possessions a secret, not the least worried about it being stolen”
“What’s worse, is that everyone knows his treasure exists. It’s common knowledge in town”
“How long will it take to get stolen?”
“It’s a matter of days, if you ask me.

He was, however, smiling in the corner. He coerced the enemy into being his friend.  This is why he doesn’t actually disclose himself to anyone, because she might be misunderstood, like what was unravelling right before his eyes. This time however, the misunderstanding just helped him protect his real treasure, something he thought no one could possess because……………

What if you need to think a certain way to know something; and you can’t think that way without feeling or experiencing something else. If that’s true, so much of this world remains hidden in sight, and we don’t even know its hidden.

You can, to an extent, disguise what arises from material belongings immaterially. That’s what makes the key to your locked doors. The keys to your secrets and trust. Our experiences may dictate the way we feel. Look closer however, and there will always be these cracks on the edges of interpretation, these nuances in feelings, small differences that stem out into larger and larger branches until you have at your disposal- uniqueness.

So, here is a complex network of questions and possible answers deconstructed to portray different perspectives of personality, trust and secrets.

Let’s start with trust. It should ideally start with mutual respect and admiration.   Most things fade away, so in reality you are not trusting the other person, you trust yourself to be hopeful enough to believe trust will not wither through time, which is why it may seem like it’s your fault or centered towards you when you are betrayed of trust.

Even the reasons for choosing why we trust others is vastly different for each person. It goes to show how ephemeral our mind is at the microscopic level., almost like no one can truly know us. The reaction of others and their understanding of you may be an external input. But after that the interpretation is yours. And interpretation is slowly built over cycles of overlapping feelings and subtle thoughts.
Can we use this as a “key” to explore parts of ourselves whilst keeping them invisible to others? Can we recover old feelings or find out what means a lot to us, but we remain ignorant to?

Many things that matter deep inside, tend to have a personal lock, like an unspoken connection, or a bittersweet memory we like to visit. The most interesting part about these is that the key for some of these is unpredictable! Any future incident could somehow serve as an access to it, which is what makes personal locks so magical. No one can possess it because of no one, sometimes not even yourself, knows it's meaning to you. Such a key is truly unique, two people may go through the same thing, but for one person alone, that experience could serve as a key.  Here, an experience from the outside world can awaken memories, thoughts that we inadvertently treasured. It can, in a sense, almost transport us to a different timeline.

The phenomenon of getting goosebumps from listening to a piece of music (called frisson), and experiencing a surge of sensory feeling could be a doorway to some great things and could be a sign of higher levels of creativity. When you re-listen to a song you hadn’t listened to in many years, you can relive the time you originally heard it to startling detail. You may notice newer things about memories, be aware of nuanced feelings. Essentially, it becomes something that’s only yours, because you can’t predict how you yourself will be. The only key for such a secret is a unique reaction to an external input.

When you listen to this song, even ambiguously (not attaching it to any particular person or experience), even then when you later hear it, it will be infused with meaning. Why? Because the environment around you at that time possessed some emotional meaning, even if you didn’t know it. It became like recovering a part of you. Like recovering your own perspective on what’s in front of everybody.

Suppose instead of attaching significance, you simply create scenarios in your mind. You just imagine instances and do this repeatedly. Over time, the song’s original meaning will tarnish away. Such imagination gives temporary satisfaction, and even though one can imagine a variety of different scenes and emotions; imagination itself, feels the same. It does not carry any value by itself. It would seem that listening to a song a couple of times and then years later seems to be the world’s best time machine, but when we overplay it, and tamper it using imagination, neural networks get diluted and may not be serve as a very effective train of reminiscence anymore. *^


Mulling things over in our mind in loops can change almost everything about it- it may change a happy sentence into a sad one, a normal experience into a special one, and now these emotions that have been created by you, are like small filters that complicate further experiences.
Consider that two people go through the same experiences from birth. They may not feel each experience to the same degree. The second point is that subtler feelings are experienced by each of them. One may react more heavily, and the other may have auxiliary feeling in more magnitude than the other. Though these differences may be minimal at the start, these subtle thoughts become triggers, just like the initial experience.
Look at what’s happened. Now the seed of subsequent thoughts and emotion is no longer EXTERNAL. Its internalized. As they grow, though material interactions give rise to initial waves of thoughts, our lives are culminated by infinite intertwined feelings and emotions- so for each material interaction, a hundred immaterial ones are processed subconsciously. A symphony can’t be broken down to violins, piano, and drums separately. The feeling that arises when they are played in unison is simply “different” though its just a conglomeration of its parts. This is similar to our mind, and the concept of “The whole is greater than its parts”. What’s more is that the thoughts occurs in different order, and a different order creates a different story.
The concept of “personality” is viewed as abstract sometimes”.  Like character is something that describes the mind, rather than the experience. But this is contradictory, as “Personality” is immaterial, while the experience, the derivative, is material. So, there is a possibility that during this invisible conversion process, our internal reactions and what we make of things in our mind may gradually shape our personality more than the experience itself.


In a strange way, that makes us original. Perhaps not completely original, but it’s possible that no two people are the same, even if they have gone through the same things.
But since the development of originality is subconscious, let us look at conscious examples to put it into application:

Often, there is a part of a song that appeals to us, a favorite part.  When we ask ourselves why that particular melody appeals to us, it may be hard to pinpoint the source of what produced your liking in that part.  Sure, it may mean something like “freedom” or “joy” of remind you of a memory. But why does it mean a specific emotion to you? This is an example of how something that has no direct connection with a memory could possibly trigger a feeling. This is a magical occurrence. It’s extraordinary that a melody can awaken in you a unique emotion, that others may not react to in the same way. It goes to portray how subtly different our minds are. Furthermore, when we create things out of that feeling we derive from the music- make a story based on the feeling, write a new song, or even play it on an instrument- now you have made something that is unique from the depths of your mind. Your own subconscious interpretation.  
Frequency of frisson was positively correlated with overall Openness to Experience, as well as five of its six sub facets: Fantasy, Aesthetics, Feelings, Ideas, and Values. *This may also mean that extensive feeling, or sensing is related to creativity.

Sensory influx, the visual imagery, nostalgia, all point towards creativity, and many renown creative geniuses draw on their sensitivity to fuel creative processes.

Highly sensitive people tend to be more creative, as the depth of feeling offers scope for exploration. The interpretation and emotion felt greatly corresponds to the creation of ideas, and is similar to how interpretation even creates association between senses, or synesthesia.
Infact, drawing on nostalgia can increase imaginative processes


You might have heard of the term “synesthesia”, where sensory experiences get interconnected. A person with grapheme synesthesia, for example, associates letters and numbers with colors. A person with musical synesthesia sees colors effuse out of musical notes. Some synesthetes taste words, smell numbers, etc. It is also a fact* that Synesthetes don’t necessarily share the same sensory experience-though there are commonalities ( ex: most synesthetes associate either black or white with zero), the difference in perception is linked to the environment of growth, childhood*, and if its occurrence is natural, then synesthesia is developed in childhood or at birth.

A Symptom of synesthesia is also reading sentences that seem personified, as though a stranger with different personalities are narrating them. It is interesting to relate this to how there might be different personas in our own head, and sometimes constantly make commentary on our life! It’s like seeing yourself through different perspectives, except these perspectives have defined forms, which makes it easier to assign little quirks to them. If this helps us sense and perceive the world better, and makes us see through multi-colored glasses, it can be very creatively satisfying to have internal conversations, in a positive and uplifting way. We can be a stranger to our own experience, and wouldn’t a change of view be enlightening?

Synesthesia also, may be linked to creativity and metaphors, * and is in a way a example of consciously coming up with original sensory interconnections, a creative process that becomes part of character.  It's connecting something unrelated and different, and an original combination of connection.

So the rearrangement of feelings, and extent to which people sense and feel can contribute to original creations. It is no surprise that many artists and musicians have synesthesia.

Such experiences, with music, nostalgia and conditions like synesthesia are examples of a how we interpret and sense can consciously contribute to originality.


The bottom line is that synesthesia obtains its roots from childhood, but morphs into something complex enough to blur lines of emotion. The proportion of how things are mixed is unique. That proportion is the starting line for all character, and the proportion can be random and unique.
Thoughts feel so diverse and interwoven, that experiencing different facets of it itself can seem synesthetic. Seeing a neon sky, for instance, may not just bring happiness or excitement, but very specific sentience, and a connection to memory, even if it has never been a part of your life at any point of time. The neon sky could mean regret and eccentricity, and flashes of senses may correspond to it. You may feel the aesthetic of a place to strange degrees, and sometimes a simple scenery can seem “wrong” or “sinister”.


  “Why does the neon sky seem eccentric?” “why are roses connected to a past memory that had nothing to do with roses?”

These questions have some intangible meaning behind them. So, it’s not just that people perceive things differently, it’s that their reality itself, a culmination of perceptions is unique, and so are thoughts. And don’t thoughts and ideals shape character in some way? Don't these interpretations become a part of you? A filter for how you perceive the world?


Some song forms a golden thread link with some intense feeling which is connected to a memory you never knew you possessed (this memory may be fictional even) which is linked to a whole little city in your world.  Everything means differently. And as we think and think, these meanings become fine-tuned, and create emotions, thoughts and perspectives that shape our individuality. The essence is that your character may have obtained its roots from the world, but your proceedings, both on the inside and outside, are truly yours. And gradually, proceedings reflect character. More than the roots. It’s a many layered mind that could seem impossible to strip down.

Memories can be similar, but the sequence of memories and thoughts, will likely not be the same.


Here we gently skim the daunting surface of the philosophical idea of “Fictional realism”. A main idea here is to try and question what the definition of something has to be to be considered real. We say “It was a dream, not reality” But did it not feel real? When we read a book, or a movie, and voraciously delve into fictional landscapes, does it not truly feel like we are integrated into it, or rather, it is integrated into us? In that case, since we are real and it is now a part of us, can it be real too? Or can it be real, simply because it exists in our minds? Love and loathing also exist in our minds, but we regard them as a real thing, pulsating with its repercussions. Do we regard something as real only if it has a scope for action? Or if it’s something we can touch or see? In that case, the world will be limited, and there would be a loss of explanation for what gives rise to those actions. It would be like saying “imagination seeds reality”.

Memories and thoughts can be similar, but the sequences of them, even if  slightly  different can grow to be hugely dissimilar. If we can consciously create things when exposed to sensory information, why can't we consider the possibility of subconscious creation of individual character?
onlylovepoetry Sep 2017
the grit courage of trust**

still too young and now, too old, to comprehend,
love~trust and all its secondary derivatives,
not extant on a plane of new bed sheets of
silk~linen tablecloth rectangularity

go into the park's garden;
black soil fingernail coating
awaiting, impatiently for you,
dig in direct hands ungloved

is it not,
sensual and yet gritty,
two coextensive sensations?

slip inside (you/me, me/you),
there is a razor's edge duality duty,
trust, serve and protect,
take and
handle with rough-care, for this our state of beauty
au naturel, the rush and the fall,
the climb and the conquering,
only to start again, each step, each rung,
coated with the
the grit courage of trust -
                                          do you begin to comprehend?

trust is a bumpy landing on a glide path that is strewn
with potholes that can grow into sinkholes without
the grit of trust

the soles of my feet are a message,
gritty from walking
all-life, not just the edges,
is a two act play of roughening,
upon the limbs the things,  
that carries us *****
but bares the wearing of
unkind touches of reality
working us over

why the soothing,
but not the smoothing
daily twice is the cream that
emerges from the grit courage of trust

even the vinery's progeny of great love,
grapes that must
embrace the wind and rain,
the wearing down tools of
the exterior that brings an acknowledgement -
                                                            do you begin to comprehend?

this is not an algebraic formulaic solution solvable problem,
this derived from dirt, access to accidental, the tongue and the nail,
the cracks upon the skin, that grow wonderful deeper, unfillable,
where the love gets in,
were the words are written and stored,
rough to the touch,
under the grit courage of trust -
                                                       do you begin to comprehend?

this grit is unbelievable beautiful  
only a love po-em.      


5:22am
Tay Mar 2017
Trust is when your
f
   a
       l
          l
             i
                 n
                    g
I'll  
Catch
Y
   o
       u
Trust is leaning back and letting
G
    o
Trust is
L
   o
      v
         e
Trust is Pixie
D
    u
       s
           t
Trust is earned

Trust is me falling and you catching me

Trust is marriage

Trust is
U
    s
Trust is love
Just like trustfully you trust that someone (hopefully) catches you!
Trust Is pixie Dust!
C Taylor Riley
Rights Reserved
Dev A Jan 2013
You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye.
But I hesitated.

You grew worried,
Unsure of yourself.
So I pointed to the shelf
Where all the pictures stood.

I knew that you finally understood
As realization dawned upon your face.
So I told you a story to erase
All of the tension that had built.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye.
But I hesitated.

You asked me questions
As I told my tale.
But all I did was flail
As I tried to explain.

I revealed that I couldn’t trust
Not when friend after friend
Brought an end
To every relationship.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye.
But I hesitated.

They broke me
In ways you can’t imagine
As they left my heart and soul all barren.
I don’t know how to trust.

I want to trust you
But after end and end
You must comprehend
That I don’t know how.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye.
But I hesitated.
Melania Oct 2013
I don't trust myself
when I promise I'm fine
I don't believe I could ever let go of you.
I will never stop thinking
appraising possibilities in my mind
about what would have happened
if only I ... never kissed you
is it true that you would have wanted me more?
maybe if I were an expert
at some love mind game
we would be sitting by each other
instead of me lying by myself
writing this attempt of a letter
which by the way you will never read.
I don't trust myself
when my mind is filled with hopes
and in my dreams I breathe you in.
I don't trust myself
when you are nearby
because I'm afraid I might reveal
those angry, desperate feelings
that make you run away.
I don't trust myself
when I've had too much to drink
because I always blurt out this mess of a mind
and I'm always on the verge of either slapping you in the face or...
trying to kiss you.
I don't trust myself
when I'm around you
but it's all because of you.
You manipulate me with your words
but you make me fall in love with your eyes
when you look at me across the room.
I don't trust you
because everything you do or don't
makes me believe in a yes
but it always transforms to a never.
I don't trust myself
because every time I try to move on
you come around and clutter everything up.
yasmine Jan 2015
because please tell me how i am supposed to trust with all i've heard,
trust with the words you spoke of
turning bodies into jokes and filling my ears with words that have nothing more than an intention of being evil,
laughing and talking words of some of my own insecurities

please tell me how i am supposed to trust when all the men i have ever had to deal with have turned their backs,
physical abuse or emotional
smacking me in the face with their hand or their words,
regretting me and pushing me off,
acting as though i was nothing but an ugly girl or just a needy little fool begging for their love

change my mind and please prove to me that not all men with leave me crying a countless number of tears,
countless hours of me too hurt to get up and move from the spot they left me laying at,
reminiscing on the words they spoke to me;
their daughter or their ex

i am wounded by a number of men
and you scream to me to trust you,
you scream to me that you would never ever do anything to hurt me,
even when we part,
you want me to trust you
and i cannot find myself to it

because darling,
if you try to trust one after another
and they all seem to break it the same,
how can you find yourself to trust again?
Dev A Jan 2013
You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye
But I hesitated.

Even after you asked questions
As I told you my tale,
In which I apparently failed
To explain

You called me to say
That you would always be there
But you ran as fast as a hare
And you lied.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye
But I hesitated.

I revealed that I couldn’t trust
Not when friend after friend
Brought an end
To every relationship.

You said you understood
You comforted me as the tears streamed down my face
But you ran as if in a race
And you never looked back.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye
But I hesitated.

I wanted to trust you
You said you could comprehend
Even after end and end
You said you would be there.

But now here I am
Lost and alone
Searching for a bone
Trying to understand how it happened again.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye
But I hesitated.

You asked me to trust you
I guess I was right
But thanks for the insight
Now I know where I went wrong.

You asked me to trust you
And you expected a reply
I saw it in your eye
But I hesitated.
in response to my other poem "Trust"
Chrysta Ashlock Feb 2013
My Perfect Stranger,

I have a proposal of sorts; I want to start writing a story, in which you are my partner in crime. The crime being – living without one another. Not being sure to know if we’ll ever be apart of one another’s lives again.
Scratch that – the crime, the crime would be a lie because in truth I want to begin a story to where you are my partner in crime, yes; but you’d be my partner in crime for life. We’d commit no crimes, speak no lies, confess all truths with the bluntest honesty that could spring forth from our hearts. Enjoy every possible moment spent together, for they have become few and far apart.
This is not just a start of any typical story, but it will be the start of our story. The real story – It can’t be written, it can’t be spoken by anyone other then you and I. We’re the only ones who know how our story begins, though we’ll never truly know how it’ll end. This is a second chance, if not the first chance.

“A kiss is what tells the beginning to every story… It’s up to you where that story will lead.” –me.

The past may be the past, but we lived in that past, and the past that once was will become recognized, if it has not already. It will not be viewed harshly as it should be. Every possible thing that occurs in life does so for a reason which only fate, or as some people come to say destiny, can tell. We live to forgive and forget, though nothing is truly forgotten. We are here to make mistakes then to learn from those mistakes; if one was to never make a mistake then they’re not truly living a life well lived.

“Welcome the future with open arms; embrace it like an old friend. Learn to forgive and forget the painful memories; keep your tears at bay; have faith in yourself and others. And mostly, remember that love and trust will always be your guiding light into the darkness.” –me.

“Everything happens for a reason; don’t underestimate those reasons… You live to forgive and forget and to move along with the life you’re leading. Therefore, with that said, don’t waste time with melodrama or pity arguments. Don’t put up with people who attempt to drag you down with them. Because I can guarantee that those people; the ones who try to play you like a cheesy board game are never worth a single breath escaping your lips. Those are the ones who will never find happiness, true happiness, bliss, No, they’ll forever be lonely. Keep moving forward, look onto brighter horizons. Love the ones you hold close to your heart. Cherish your children. Lead your own life, not someone else’s, nor let any other being lead yours. Smile. Kiss. Love. Trust. Be honest with yourself and with others. It’s all worth it in the end.” –me.

Maybe our largest mistake together was making stupid decisions when we met. We made the choice to fall in love, to date, to live together and try to be happy all within a mere week of meeting. In doing so, hearts wound up broken; smashed into stardust. Trust was ripped away and friends were lost.
This time, this time will be different. I, in this beginning, will tell you of me. I will tell you everything which has occurred throughout my life, it may be the past, but my past tells a lot of who I was which has made me, well, me. I will be bluntly honest with you. I will answer every question you could possibly fathom to ask me. It’s just, I don’t know where to begin…

“The past will never cease to constantly be snipping at your heels with every step you take; it’ll always be there to remind you who you are and what paths you’ve chosen to lead you to where you are. Don’t break promises, don’t break hearts, because it’s happened before; your sometimes overwhelming past can come toppling down on you at any given moment; so be careful. There’s no one who wants to slip, fall face first, losing all consciousness into what once was.” –me.

“People change… I’ve seen friendships fall apart and relationships destroyed. It happens. Truth hurts. People lie. People cheat. Everyone destroys someone else in some way, it’s an ever going cycle of life. Live your life. Even when something unexpected comes alone, enjoy it, love it. It’s all worth it in the end. I can promise you that.” –me.

“Not everyone can read me like a story book or a torn out page of your favorite fairy tale. There’s more to me then just that. My life, better yet, my story is more complicated then most may think.
I used to be the girl that you would see walking alone down the street at night, cigarette in hand, bag in the other, all the while letting the world completely pass me by. I was the girl with the electric green nail polish and nearly enough eyeliner on my eyes to last most girls the entire year. Though all I am to most is just another pretty face.
There’s always new lives forming, coming alive, seeing this rundown movie for the very first time. Then there are also lives ending, running away from a failing life. Praying that the next world is better then the one they left in their very wake.”
–me.

Let’s begin like this; I am complicated, spontaneous, gullible, unnaturally trusting of others and a big ball of confusion at times. I care too much for others, even when they’ve chewed me up, spit me out and kicked me around in the dirt, I still care. I hand out second chances like a stranger hands children candy from his van. One would assume I would have learned my lesson of doing such nonsense, but nonetheless I continue to forgive too easily. My heart throbs when I am upset and feels as if it is going to burst wide open so all of the world can see. I have the unfortunate tendency to bottle up how I feel because my thoughts process too quickly and I become speechless because the words I am trying to speak just refuse to form into speech.

“Trust; it’s a highly important factor in ones life. I have very little for those I have met here, all except for one in which I trust completely with my life, my heart, my child… Yes, I may be very trusting, but that trust only lasts until you’ve broken it… Everyone of you thus far, besides that one person has broken my trust. So therefore those of you who broke my trust can go **** yourselves and relinquish yourselves from my life; it’ll be much better without you. And you know exactly who I’m referring to.” –me.

I fall in love too easily and too quickly; as you have first handily witnessed. I do intend for that to change, which, with my most recent excuse of a relationship I came to realize that it has changed. I never fell in love with him, I never had a true attachment, just annoyance. There is no excuse to why the relationship was even formed to begin with, let alone why it lasted more then a few short days. That relationship is over now, and that relationship will never get a second chance like others have.
I have changed; I’m no longer the person I once was. I still care and I still love, but I’m no longer the me I used to be. After our first run around, something switched off, or maybe even on inside me. I don’t fight, I may argue my point but it has no intentions to cause any harm. I began to communicate my feelings more, even though it seems to do no good.
I believe that everyone deserves to be happy, and I look for the good in everyone, that’s why I constantly push and try so hard, to bring out the better and happier person in those I am trying to help. And it seems to be the people I end up dating are those I subconsciously am looking to help; I am drawn to those who are in dire need of change without ever realizing so. It’s like a test I’m giving, and so far everyone has failed. I feel as if I’m here to help others, to make their lives better even though sometimes it may not seem like I’m trying to help at all; but I really am.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master.” – Elizabeth Gilbert

I have had many bad run-ins in this short life I have lived thus far. I became pregnant at seventeen and I was far from ready to have a child of my own; I was still a child who needed to experience more of life before bringing another life into this cruel world. In result my child was removed from my care because I fell into the hands of disastrous acts. I met the wrong people whom only drug me down farther along with them. I fought and I fought to get her back in my arms, and after a year I finally did. Though now, I look at her and I feel as if she belongs to someone else. I don’t have the bond which I should have with my daughter and no matter what I try it just won’t spark. This is a terrible confession, but it is of the truth. I catch myself more and more looking at my baby and asking myself if this is really real. Asking myself where has time gone? I missed so much of her growing up that it’s tearing me to pieces now, years later. Nothing seems to be real anymore. I need that bond between me and my child more then I need anything else, because she is my shining light in this world.

“I can’t find reality; my reality has just become a non-stop ride through hell and back. Send someone to shine a light as bright as a shooting star so I can find my way back to what my reality should be realistically.” –me.

I, myself am indeed an open book, mostly unwritten. All you ever need to do is ask me questions… Tell me of yourself – open up to me completely; because if you can tell me everything and if you can tell me everything that has been hidden, I can do the same. Be adventurous with me, be spontaneous; do things you never thought you would fathom of doing. Live with an open mind to the future; because our future could be blindingly beautiful, and then again it could also be terribly tragic. Though we will never know until we try; that’s how life works, as you’re well aware.

Though I am afraid that the beginning is coming to a slow halt; so I am asking this of you – please consider being my partner in crime, to help me continue writing our story, our fairytale. It may be the most adventurous challenge we’ll ever come across in our lifetime.
I do hope I provided a well spoken beginning, telling of some, let’s say “important” points of me and my past. Just remember, I want to find what once was lost; I want it to be found properly from both parties involved. Maybe we’ll be some of the lucky ones who’ll, one day find true blissfulness; just maybe.


Your Perfect Stranger
this is also NOT a poem... this is a letter I never sent to my "perfect stranger", my ex, the true love of my life even though I never sent it to him.
written: 7.07.12
Joliver Apr 2020
I trust you
To do this right
I'd ask someone else
But
I trust you

I trust you
Not to leave me behind
I'd go with someone else
But
I trust you

I trust you
To keep my secrets
I'd tell someone else
But
I trust you

I trust you
Not to break my heart
I could love someone else
But
I trust you

I love you
More than you could know
I could trust someone else
But
I love you
I love you
I'm not sure who this is about
Kerli Tulva Mar 2015
Trust is fragile
Trust is made from the finest glass
Crocheted from the Ice Flowers
Pieced together with hundred hours.

Trust is tender
Trust has the wings of a butterfly
Blessed with the heart of a hummingbird
Invisibly, with delicacy, Trust is dispersed.

When Trust shatters
The sharp pieces stream together in your heart
As it will take hundred more hours
To find every fragment, yet hundred more days
To make up the Ice Flower with hardest ways.
Irony Aug 2015
I do not trust trust,
no it is to good to trust.

i do not hope for hope,
it is to good to hope.
me i am cold.dark.frozen.

There is nothing left,
there was never anything in the first place.
The meaning of the words elude me.

no

i don't trust trust,
because it reminds me of me.
And me, i cant not help but love my demons,
because they are all i have left to remind me of the trust in hope i once had.
Ami Shae Dec 2015
If trust is so sacred to you
why are you so stingy with it?
Why, I wonder can you not
forgive and move on
and allow the future
to unfold as it is meant to unfold
instead of constantly searching
for reasons to chase the past?

If trust is so sacred to you
then why will you not give it freely
and allow it to shine forth
and become a real part
of who you are
instead of placing it
crumb by crumb?

If trust is so sacred to you
then why not give truly from your heart
and let all who know you feel and see
that you carry such beauty
inside of you
instead of wearing that hateful fear
that eats you up inside?

Trust.
You say you want to trust me,
yet you refuse to really try.
Always searching for tidbits
to prove that you cannot have
peace of mind--
yet too, you are always, always
looking behind--

If trust is so sacred--
then allow the future to unfold
without strings knotted up
from the past.
No one can trust when they refuse
to look forward
rather than looking back...
Francie Lynch Mar 2016
Trust a liar
To equivocate.

Trust a thief
Won't discriminate.

Trust your government
To disappoint.

Trust Justice
To miss the point.

Trust your parents
Til you find a voice.

Trust education,
If you want a choice.

Trust your friends
To have your back, front and sides.

Trust your children
With your life.

Trust your partner,
Like no other.

Trust one's self
More than anyone else.
Trust,
A funny word really
A stupid concept
Why open up
Why let people in
They care for one reason
It helps themselves
It allows them to have a peaceful mind
But trust is a ******* lie
Never is it kept
No matter how hard you try
It's always ripped away
It slaps you in the face
Leaves you lying on the ground
It has no boundaries as to where to stop
It will leave you bleeding more than any cut
It's pain slices deep, wounding
Agonizing hurt, misuse ringing in your ear
Telling you
YOU are the fool
YOU gave me out
YOU let your guards down
Are you mad at ME for YOUR ******* moves?
Mmhhh that's funny too
Blame me for wrecking you ?
When in reality,
It was YOU all along
Your a ****** *******
YOU WANTED to tell you wanted the attention
YOU WANTED them to feel sorry
No matter how much you deny it
That selfish ***** "sliver" of you leaked out
You messed it all up
You wanted pity
Well guess what now you have it
Now everyone knows your ***** little secret
And all because you misused the words
"I trust you"
All because you were too ****** weak
To pathetic to hold your stupid *** together
Your exposed because in truth
THAT is what you wanted all along
You stupid *** *****
There is never such a thing called trust
NEVER will it stay between just you and them
And you KNEW THAT *****
This is your fault
You see never is there trust
Just the falsity of it
Just the green screen as to what happens
Just this lie, deception
Because really trust was never yours  
To be handing out
So really was it the betrayal that hurt you
With broken trust
Or maybe, just maybe
It was yourself
brooke Apr 2015
i used to think trust appeared
with the right words, it would
b l i n k  out of the universe the
way new stars are born- - -not
and then a l l  at   o    n    c    e .

but you cross into the concept
that trust is built, as with wires
beams and panels, love, faith
and identity---

I trust him to do this, to not
do that, trust that he won't go
there and will come here, but
i've realized that trust has been
misconstrued with worry, with the
innate desire to control any and
all things that pass by me in their
states.

lately, though, trust had been been
a release, a slack line, a whole box
of blackberries, celery and raisins
pink knuckles, deep breaths and
sky blue nails

i have an armful of things I cannot
let go but they slide out one by one
without my knowledge, trust is a
blind thing, not like hope, because
hope is hoping and trust is trusting
with so much more vigor, less of a
spectacle and more of a private
ceremony, a quiet wedding
appropriated in smiles and
the brush of duchess satin
to and fro, to and fro
to and fro.
(c) Brooke Otto 2015
Riot Apr 2014
trust
once you have mine
i have to start over
trust is an addiction
and i'm trying to get sober
the trusted know you the most
and no one really knows me
i can't trust you with my life
because when i'm dead it'll be on me
my secrets are mine
and mine only

to me
trust is a bridge
you know i can cross to your side
but you can't come to mine
because two half's don't make a whole
they make another line
so maybe next time

i don't know why i'm like this
speechless
walking around with four walls around me
leadless

whatever happened to me
to make you untrustable to me
i know
i sorry
it's wrong
though i can't trust you
you can trust me
because *i
know that i can belong

but i can't let you have my trust
i can't start over
i can't get addicted again
*i have to get sober
Estella May 2018
Trust should not be taken lightly.
Trust should be stronger than a iron rod.
Trust can be a funny thing.
Trust can manipulate you.
Trust can build you up,
Trust can bring you down.
But once trust is broken,
Trust cannot be put back together.
Who do I trust?
When all of you disgust
Me
With your hypocritical
Analytical dissection
I'm guilty too
I'm just as bad as you
I look at you, you look at me
I cut you, metaphorically
Stick and stones may break bones
But words will destroy you.
And it doesn't matter if you don't know
If I sing a song but don't put on a show?
If a tree falls and no one hears it, has it really fallen?
If I break your trust, and you don't know, is it really broken?

Who do I trust
When all of you discuss
Me
When my back is turned
I know you speak in hushed tones
Passing the final judgement upon my saintly mind and sinful soul
The paranoia will take it's toll
You'll be the end of me, you'll be the fall
My mind will slowly unwind
until you find
my innermost thoughts
which you sought
to extract,
as if they were facts,
which would **** me forever.
Show my face, this I won't
I fear you will cast the first stone
Irrespective of your flaws which I respected, I accepted
Or did I?
Did you find out
I brandished my sword,
Sliced through your soul, sliced through your ghouls
There was no trial yet I banged the gavel
I dropped a bomb but you were hit by shrapnel
Oh dear me, what have I done?
Who can I turn to, where do I run?

Who do I trust
When I cannot even trust
Me
Stuck in past, intangible present
The future's bleak, like the moons full crescent
The horrors of yesterday haunt me
My evils of today taunt me
My future transgressions daunt me
I promise I'm trying to be good
Promise I'm trying to do what I should
But who's example do I follow
When all your actions are so hollow
And there I go again
Mr hypocrite, judging his friends
But who am I to judge everyone else
When I do the same myself?
I voiced my issues to a friend
That I feared I would never trust again
She dished out a few words which set me free
If I don't trust myself, the who will me?
Casey Winchester Mar 2015
Dark - Dark - Dark -
Lost within the dark;
Riding on a steed of the darkest velvet -
Of the darkest emotion.

Deep - Deep - Deep -
Swirling into the deep oblivion;
Twisting deeper down under -
Deep down to the lowest level of cyanide.

Fly - Fly - Fly -
Fly away to a season of bliss;
Flutter into the wind of uncertainty -
Tear the pages of fate and destiny then flush, flutter, fly.

Away - Away - Away -
Far away to a majestic paradise of warranty;
Away to a night of desolation -
Never to wander any farther than away.

Writing - Writing - Writing -
Scribbling a melody of peace and warfare;
Sending a written requiem -
Hoping the perished write back.

Trust - Trust - Trust -
Sleep inside a swollen state of trustworthiness;
Don’t trust a nymph who lies beneath their lips -
Don’t trust your self-conciseness.

Fly Away from the Deep, Dark, Trust of Writing.
Dark - Deep - Fly - Away - Write - Trust:
Live.
ANOTHER older poem. It's a little over a year old.
Sam Temple Jan 2016
I sat across looking at my wife
Thinking, “Has there ever been another woman like Tina Lyn”
I was considering our shared love
The commitment we made to trust
Our choice to maintain an open dialog regarding faith
And always go to bed with hearts full of happiness

It’s not always easy to hold onto happiness
But it is easier when you have a relationship built on trust
Like the one I have with my wife
It only takes a little faith
And someone like my Tina Lyn
To have a life full of peace of mind and love

I wish everyone knew there was this kind of love
If only everyone could find their Tina Lyn
Then they too could experience this happiness
And begin to have some faith
Build a life with their lover or wife
With a strong foundation of honesty and trust

I never knew I could have such trust
In my youth I had no faith
Only fleeting moments of happiness
That all changed when I found my wife
And allowed myself to open up to her love
It was then I knew I would spend eternity with Tina Lyn

I still remember the first night I spent with Tina Lyn
And our conversations about the meaning of trust
And how important that was to real happiness
Is it any wonder I made her my wife
I had never known such complete and unconditional love
So I took a chance on faith

It’s a funny thing about faith
When one considers it without god, only trust
I had to learn these things from Tina Lyn
Even though I knew I ‘wanted’ a life full of love
‘Wanting’ is not the road to true happiness
and would have never brought me my perfect wife

I think about my happiness as a man in love
The trust I have in my relationship with Tina Lyn…
Only person to ever bring faith into my heart is my wife
Little Bear Mar 2016
Trust..
not an easy thing to do
not an easy thing to give
not an easy thing at all

don't tell me that I am broken
because I don't trust you
don't tell me that..

I have a very acute sense of who to trust
and who I won't
and if I don't trust you
then maybe I see something in your eyes
something you try to hide
I have a very acute sense of who to trust
and I can see you
I can see you
I can see...
you

and let me tell you..
you are not what you seem
I can see
I can see that,
underneath your smiles and your laughter
under those spots..
is something to be feared

don't tell me I am broken
because I don't trust you

have the **** kicked out of you
over and over again
have your soul ****** over
have your life in someones
murderous hands

and then tell me
I dare you
tell me I should trust you...
I am not broken.. It's just that don't give my trust to just anyone. If something feels off, if something doesn't 'feel' right... it probably isn't right. Learn to trust the vibes you feel when you meet someone. Sometimes your gut knows more than your head and your heart, never apologise for trusting your intuition.
God they'll mock me and doubt me... Trust Me
  God they'll say  I would be a fool not to stay where I am... Trust me
  God they think I'm only good for certain types of jobs as if that's all there is to me like I have no other gifts... Trust me
  God they are for sure gonna laugh and talk about me... Trust me
  God what if I fail?... Trust me
  God what if I lose it all?... Trust me
  God what if I'm not thinking clearly and they're all right?... Trust me
God but what if... Trust me
  I am Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end. I will never leave you nor forsake you. I will always make a way where there seems to be no way. Have I ever giving you a reason to doubt that I will not be there and provide for you? Your gift will make room for you. TRUST ME!

— The End —