dust instead of trust

Photo by Natalie Comrie on Unsplash

i have not felt like i’m real

ever since death hit me

like a sandstorm that

still leaves me cou

ghing up dust in

stead of trust

trust is not a verb

that my brain

knows how

to act

on

on god, i didn’t mean to stop

believing in all of the

concepts that once

kept me from

burying my

self knee

deep

in psychology

psychology fascinates me until

it is thursday and i am in a

therapy session during

which my therapist

asks me why i

do not think

that i am

worth

anything

worth

is determined during formative

years but all i did was form

extra ears so that i could

listen more closely and

escape the doom be

fore the room in my

head became an

echoing cham

ber for all of

the words

that i

am

i always going to be touched

by the hands that never

held me but still man

aged to leave an

imprint?