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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.

Thoughts? Response?

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