They Burned Your Trust

poem by: Joshua JayShades Legister
Written on Nov 17, 2025

 They burned your trust.
The world moves on, the clock ticks,
as if the pain didn’t leave a crater
where your soul used to be.

Being broken leaves scars, not wounds.
No cuts.
People underestimate silence.
Silence is dangerous
it’s where the monster is born.

That’s where I live.
In this quiet corner.
They call it peace.
I call it survival.

The storm ripped me open.
Some watched. Some smiled.
I held onto caring, even after being crushed.
But caring won’t keep me alive.
The cold does.

They picked my kindness apart,
like a weakness.
Thinking they would come back,
fix what they broke.
They won’t.

I carry the rubble.
The echoes. The pain.
I can’t unsee.

Here is the twist:
Most people crumble and stay broken.
Pain is a good teacher.
It teaches. It doesn’t lie.

It’s not my fault I cared.
They thought breaking me would keep me quiet.

I can’t chase. I can’t stay small.
I am not the same soft soul
waiting for apologies.

What is revenge?
Am I the revenge,
walking past like they never mattered?
Just detachment.
Can it be my shield?
This peace, this silence.
Do I keep it sharp?

There is a moment
we break free from the shackles,
be clandestine,
never give in.

 

Tags: Anger, Depressing, Dark, Wishful, Deep,

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Roxanne Dubarry commented on Jan 12, 2026 at 6:48pm
"What is revenge? Am I the revenge? For most of my younger days, I used to always get even with those who hurt me. Misleading myself, in that sad olden days song, "that revenge was sweet." but that's a bold face lie cause it's not sweet and not even bitter sweet but just plain bitter! "Children learn what they live." Before I became an abuser, I was first abused. But I am no longer being abused neither am I an abuser neither verbally or physically. "But Jesus Christ took me away from all of that "happy nonsense,' as my deceased sister Lynn used to say. I can remember my sister, Lynn, tearing out the book of Job from a Bible. And when I asked her why she was doing that, she rightfully compared herself to Job. And she thought that God hated her but I also felt that He hated both my family and me as well. There is a moment we break free from the shackles, be clandestine never give in. Being clandestine? Is a really good idea to let detachment become your shield? From the voice of experience I have discovered that neither one of them worked for me. I kept my darkest emotions bottled up inside of me until they exploded. Human counseling and pysch care only carried me so far, Jesus Christ took me by the hand, and healed me and made my whole again.

 

 

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