True

Folder: 
2018

I promise not to promise anymore

I promise to let my promises sit in the corner

until they’re shut closed with my numbers

spin them into fairy dust

and tell you how much one promise could mean

 

They sit with the things I have tried to make sense of

the crosslinked letters I will never send

let me cover my face once again

there is something

so soothing

in anonymity

 

I think sometimes

you can shut me off

and I promise sometimes I’m a queen

and sometimes I have trouble remembering why I exist

I promise until this truth drags me down

 

So I have said most of the whispers I’ve heard when I’m alone

I think that can pass as telling most of the truth

so it comes back at me like a tidal wave

and I swallow the salt that tells me to promise

Otherwise who would listen to the lines on my hands

that I think might be mazes

but someone once told me are magic

 

I have no way to know how much you are living

I promise you are worth more than me

so I push all the truth into my promise box it is enough

I swear you’re enough

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/26/18

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allets's picture

Once Written

"...who would listen to the lines on my hands..."

fine, just fine writing. - slc