november child

the curse of a sentimental heart & a skeptical mind




Trust has woven
its delicate strands
around neglected
promises and
long-forgotten declarations,
stretched thin in
too many places, ready
to disintegrate at any moment.


© Novemberchild
photo credit: Christian Holmér via Flickr


Again, you wear
a cloak of avoidance,
your impenetrable armour
against which all questions
bounce off unanswered,
birthing a thousand
new queries in ones’ mind.

Regardless of the seeds
of trust one plants,
you thrive on detachment,
the telltale signs hidden
behind an affable persona,
until, in the wake of your evasions,
ones’ willingness to try is spent.

However deeply one delves
into your defences,
you never volunteer a clue,
instead try your hardest
to obscure
the way to your heart,
lest it be broken.


© november child
in response to: The Sunday Whirl Wordle #271
and Volunteer
photo credit:


What a clever trap
you have laid out for me,
my curiosity piqued
by a trail of compelling baits.

Tiny glimpses of steadiness,
sweet samples of safety,
delicious treats of trustworthiness,
too alluring to resist.

From within my bubble of chaos,
my world of emotional roller coasters
and a history of running away,
I stare at your enticing offers
like a child longing for the cookie jar.

And you watch me
in quiet anticipation.


© november child

photo credit: Dave Shafer via flickr


Dangerous Games

To trust you
is to play
a game of Jenga.
Every time
I turn around
you remove another block,
endangering the structure.

To trust you
is to play
a game of reverse Jeopardy.
Every time
I ask the correct question
the wager I lay on you is lost,
draining my resources.

To trust you
is to built
a house of cards.
Every time
I check the foundation
it has become more shaky,
ready to collapse any time.

© november child
photo credit: Dutch Simba via flickr

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