The fear of deception,
or perhaps of belief,
Is the one I place highest,
As it offers no relief.
The suspended paralyzation,
The inability to trust,
The discomfort of letting people close,
And yet knowing that I must.
The likelihood of being conned,
The probability of lies,
Is in the forefront of my mind,
“Be vigilant, be wise.”
I push away opportunities –
for relationships, even friends,
Because I know disappointment would devastate me,
And that’s not how my story should end.
T’is easier to be (for the most part) alone,
An outcast, with only my company to keep,
Than admit I’m too fragile for another break,
… That I’m too afraid to weep.