Many times I wish I were a stronger person
So I could disallow anxiety to rule me
Why fret over a situation I cannot change?
Why fret over a future that may not come to fruition?
That sticky quagmire robs me of joy and peace
Robs me of movement to do other things
To solve the problems that I can
And to build lasting trust in myself

The Nature of Trust

The echoes of thoughts come back to me from days, weeks, months ago. My head knows words spit in anger are not to be trusted, that the source of bitterness from others is mostly always a misunderstanding, but my heart still carries the burden and hangs a shadow over my eyes. What secrets and jealousies lurk under the smile of an acquaintance, what derision and self-importance? Broken trust in even one you took in confidence means loss of trust in the world.