When did I first learn not to trust you?
Was it an unanswered cry in infancy?
A tearful, childish night I was sent back to bed without a hand to hold?
Or was it the nights I listened to stories yelled through the walls,
Shattering my illusions of home?
Was it the first time you doubted my judgment?
Pointed out how my “methods” needed improvement,
How different I am from you?
Or was it when you decided I wasn’t worth the sacrifice of anything to be in your life?
Was it when I realized that little girl still lived inside me?
That I had not managed to kill her with my rationals and coping mechanisms?
When you still loved those that failed to take care of you?
When you loved someone who could not love you in return?
I don’t remember. I only know that I want to try again.
Amanda C 2012