Poetry

SkinDeep

I dove head first into a boiling pool that scalded my skin and left me burnt to the bone. 

It hurt to remain. 

It hurt to move. 

What followed on the shore was convulsion and torment, in its absolute purest form. 

Yet I am expected to dive in again. 

And I am condemned for finding it difficult to do so. 

Perhaps I should apologize instead, 

For my lack of skin. 

Poetry

“Trust”

You grieve because you forget that what defines this world is betrayal. 

It brings you only further into yourself, for you are scared of giving away too much again. 

But to trust is not to not expect pain. 

Because attaching to anything other than Him is pain in itself. 

But trust is to give part of yourself away knowing that you will be fine if that part of you is misused, or lost. 

As it always has been. 

And that is okay. 

That is normal.