Trust is a warm blanket
Tarnished around the edges with marks from being burned time and again.
Tattered with holes from the pieces that have been forcefully removed from being misused.
Trust is a blanket.
Acquired for its durability that has less than honorably faded over time
Affording now as much restraint as it does comfort in life.
Trust is a net.
Twisted over on itself with the attempt to protect from a cruel outside world
Tied around my feet and pulled tight around my throat.
Trust is a net – entrapping me – alone.