In the kindness of strangers 
Yet marvel at how a best friend, lover, partner
Can become less than a stranger
In a day

Some people collect people
I collect shells
Beach treasures are beautiful 
Even when we don't know what they are.

People are beautiful even when we don't know who they are.

I find it hard to know who is a friend 
Until they show me
One way or another
Still, I believe in them
Even when they don't show up.

I believe I need to believe in me before I place so much belief in another.

If mine is the heart in whom I trust.