Poem: 10/01

Poem: 10/01
is the word I use
to describe myself.
I have gone through
balanced over pits of lava,
while people stood on the sidelines and watched.
I have walked over
mountains disguised as hills,
while daggers were thrown
cutting through my paper-thin skin.
I haven’t wept
when my fair-weather friends
were swept away
with the winds that took away all my worldly possessions.
It soon began
to sting less.
Every time I was told
I was too pure to understand the evil of the world,
the ghosts that kept me awake
during the restless nights
soon evaporated,
as if they were never there, to begin with.
The cuts and bruises
healed gradually
until my body was restored
to its original state, to what it once was.
I became wary
of the antagonists.
And I understood
that my trust was something to be earned,
not to be given,
not to be stolen.
I learned to forgive

©️ photo from Unsplash

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