I’ve lost all faith,

all my trust in the world

has dissipated into thin air.

It floats away as a

mist that I can feel but

can no longer grasp. How

can something that you know

is there be so hard

to get a hold of?

The moisture at the tips of my

fingers yet mist so thin

and abstract that I can’t

grip it. Reaching out for that trust,

longing to be open,

this only continues to dampen my hand; it’s

like I’m personally handing

the knife to those who

wish to betray me,

but it slips from my hand before

I know they’re worthy of it.

I’ve stabbed myself in

the back. How did

I not see this before?