where trust falls

there were times in my life

I had to wear gloves

to carry trust.

like fragile paper thin plate glass

I worried that one tiny

*tap*

it would shatter,

scatter on the cold floor

as a bed of nails

for bare feet

forced to walk

over broken trust.

 

I grew to learn,

grew to see,

I wasn’t trusting me.

whether someone led

my hand

or my own hand

wrote that story.

it was both at times.

like love of self

if that’s not there

it has a hard time

existing at all.

 

I had to forgive

sometimes others,

but mainly myself

for the times I let me down.

whatever that looked like.

times when I thought

I should have spoken up.

times when I know

I should have kept quiet.

once I said,

“girl, you won’t ever

let me down

and if you do

we can fix it.”

I started believing in myself,

trusting myself again.

 

now I walk carrying trust

slung over my shoulders.

a shawl of embroidery and silk.

wraps me safe.

warms me sound.

when the floor is cold

and I’m without shoes

I can lay it over

any broken part of me

to help me

get where I am going.

 

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