Of Foolish Beliefs

I can write books on betrayal,

So many times, I was betrayed.

My trust was stretched thin,

Until it snapped

Covering my frail and tender body

With veil, knitted from scars

and nightmares.

It knows my name.

Savors it, like the exotic delicacy.

Bubbling beneath the skin;

Calling me, wanting me, degrading me

From outside and within.

Teaching me to tolerate enemies,

Forsaking dreams of friendship.

Though, I’ll get gutted as many times as I must,

To find the one person in whom I can trust.

Lizardin Bain

Occasional writer, vocational dreamer, helpless romantic, and hypocritical cynic. Find me here: https://unoriginalnotes.com

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