Scattered Trust | Teen Ink

Scattered Trust

May 10, 2012
By Evyfan111 DIAMOND, Castle Pines North, Colorado
Evyfan111 DIAMOND, Castle Pines North, Colorado
64 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Writing eases my suffering. It&#039;s my soul&#039;s medicine. I write when I hurt. I write what I fear. Writing is my form of personal freedom. I write to save myself. I write to survive as an individual.&quot;<br /> ~Amor Magner


Fantasy, reality,
Borders fade between the two.
Where is the line
Between false and true?
Like an eternal, icy flame;
It has a solid grip
On your wary mind,
Always lurking in your thoughts,
As you wonder
If you can truly tell the difference,
Or if you feed on lies
And false truths.

Once burned
By the shearing hand of betrayal
Your trust is lost
And must be found
Once more,
Brought back from the
Dark abyss that is your fear;
Fear of breaking,
Fear of losing everything you know.

But how can you learn to trust
When the raw pain of heartache
Still throbs in your chest,
As if your faith
Was torn out of your heart
And shredded before your eyes?

And now you wonder
If this belief,
That you put so much faith in,
Was wrong all along.
And now you wonder
If the belief is a childish one,
One to grip for comfort,
Like a security blanket,
As a child only;
A belief to be grown out of.
And now you wonder
How so many people
Can be deceived by this story,
That you see right through,
Not fooled anymore
By the cheap disguise
That attempts to hide
The sad truth.

Though cloth has been thrown over
The ringing bells
Of betrayal and deceit,
I can still hear
The sorrowful peals
That ring without cease.

It pours,
And I seem to be
The only one
To feel the sorrow.
I walk among those singing and dancing,
Blessing the rain,
For they do not know
What they sing about.

The dim sunlight
Does not hide
The many looming rainclouds
Waiting to let loose
Their many lies upon the land,
Lies that will be soaked up
By the thirsty roots of seedlings,
And used as nourishment
For their growing selfs.

I pretend to be like the rest of them,
Happy and placant,
Satisfied with the lies,
But inside I writhe,
And my chest tightens
With the guilt of pretending.

I burn with a passion
To speak the truths hidden inside,
To be free from the burden of lies;
Theirs and my own.

I try to be strong
And stand up for my beliefs,
But my legs tremble
And I stutter over my rehearsed words.
I mumble and cower,
Like a frightened mouse.

Nobody seems to hear,
So I run away,
Back to my hole,
To hide,
And fake another smile,
As I flee.



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