trust

i am not sure where to go with this one.

it is written that trust is deep and sleeping and alive
strange how it is still such a leap in the end...

as flowers fade
a streak of indigo paint finds it's way onto the floor...
[because]

i want to trust...
so what if i did go and open my heart
and leave all that i am expesed,
all laying about in disorder?
would you go freely to rummage through boxes and drawers
filled with remembrance and shiny things that still bring hope
after time and factuality have come to rest...
would you see me in there?

i