Why am I scared to trust?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Talks about my past, and the things that happened that has made who I am today.

Submitted: August 29, 2015

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Submitted: August 29, 2015

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To trust someone is giving them the power to destroy you. I have been broken once. It took me a year and a half to pick up the fragments of my broken heart. I glued them together with concrete; creating a wall around my pain in a feeble attempt to heal. I isolated myself, I was unreachable... Untouchable. 

A year ago my thoughts were daggers that I drug across my skin. My thoughts became a reality that I created. Mistakes carved themselves into my wrists. Lies crawled up my arm; slicing me with it's deceiving tongue. Guilt flooded me. I was filled with regret. Regret ate at me, rejecting food. Filling me with self hatred instead.

I had let him in. I thought he was healing my wounds, but he was only making them deeper. His poetic words infected my brain... A bitter sweet potion; lies disguised as love. As his poison ran through my veins, his lust captured my broken body. He was inside me in everyway. Physically, emotionally, mentally... I was his. But he was not mine. His lies obscured my view of who he truly was-a monster dressed as a man. My poisoned body was shutting down. I drank him like the cure when he truly was the poison. He sharpened my thoughts and stabbed those daggers straight into my back.

I filled him with trust, and he filled me with lies. I was loyal... while he was unfaithful. I gave him anything... and he took everything I could give and more. He left me when broken and empty. Every promise broken... Every secret shared... I meant nothing to him, but he was everything to me. I truly loved him. He truly loved to use me. Although those wounds have healed, those daggers still lay in my back. Thin lines scar my arm. His scars. My body. They are just a reminder of the battle I fought and lost. I refuse to be a prisoner in my own body again.

I continue to fight this battle, but it's a battle with myself. I never cured the poison... I just learned to live with the pain. I taught myself to breathe again... I had to drain my lungs of all the suppressed tears I couldn't cry... I forced the jagged pieces of my heart to beat again. I picked myself back up off of the cold hard ground. I found a way to live again. Live without him. In that moment, I realized that I was the only one I could trust. Poison still runs through my scar ridden veins, and those daggers are still lodged in my back... but I guess that's the price you have to pay, for trusting the wrong people. Life is a battle... but now I am armed.

 

 

 


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