Losing My Grip
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?