This is one of over 400 poems I have written in the past year triggered by a trauma in which I nearly lost myself, my life. My voice has gradually reappeared on the pages of a notepad scrawled late at night. I am weaving my way back to myself trying to find the trust that I lost somewhere along the way. Can I trust my own judgement? what I see? what I feel? Who I am? Disconnected from myself I have spent many years being a spectator in my own story until last year, when everything I had supressed poured out. I etch my words onto paper, in each word is tattooed feelings and emotions that I do not connect with. Trust in myself, belief I can change, all collected into meaningless words on a page. Trust in letting go, closing this chapter moving forward, it comes and goes it never staying long enough to root itself, embed itself in me so I can feel stable, secure, solid. The key is within me can I trust myself to use it?