their trust

I am vulnerable

To the people around me

To the things that surround me

Both the happy and the sad.

I am hurt by the least of words

I am elusive if the surface is evil

I am stagnant if it is love that I am standing upon.

I am biased

Towards the ones I love

I wonder why those only few I choose, couldn’t be biased towards me.

I wonder if I am a fool falling prey each time they hunt for warmth, from me.

I mean, God never told me that I was the Sun.

Then why do I tend to behave like one?

Though they take away all my warmth,

But still, I feel their hearts are growing colder each day

And in return I only ask for “their trust”

But it was probably the second last thing they would give me

“Their love” being the last.

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