Fragments of Her Trust

She opened up one day

And gave me her trust.

What a silly thing to do.

Now I am charged with

Carrying it forward,

Keeping it from damage,

And living me life so as

To be worthy of the trust.


It is silly, is it not,

To give something

To me that I had not

Given myself?


It is silly to give away

Something so precious,

So fragile, that she had

Spent a great deal of her

Life finding the dashed

Fragments of her trust

And piecing them

Back together?


She was hesitant

To give it to me.

She thought it through.

She belabored the point,

Then set it free

Into my care.


About ~Drew

I am a survivor of childhood torture. Each day, I put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. To do any less would spell my own destruction. My music/poetry/prose deal with the devastating effect of this kind of abuse on a human being: me. My experiences/thoughts/ideas/misconceptions are exposed here for all to see. Here. I am lain bare, naked, hidden only be the cloak of anonymity.
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