my trust does not belong
in a full moon every night or
in thrown away towels
along rocky trails leading uphill.
to the voices telling me to be small;
beyond sensitivity into the territory of fragility,
here, my trust does not belong.
For I am made of more than porcelain.
I am made of stardust, faith, and love for
my trust belongs
in the brightness of the stars
as much as it belongs in the silence and the dark.
It lies in the untouched corners of the universe,
in the strength of faith and love and
between the fearless breaths of a girl on a run.
My trust belongs in the strength of my arms
to propel my legs through the last straightaway.
We are made to be
fearless, bold and strong.
These are the places
our trust belongs.