Promises are empty for us.
They are too easily broken.
All too often, the punishment is death.
But the promise that was broken was not to die....
I won't leave you, not ever.
I can't promise anything because it would be useless.
I won't leave you.
Cross my heart and hope not to die.
Cross my heart and take away my knives.
Cross my heart and tie me to you.
I hope you know
that leaving you would mean breaking myself.
YOU ARE READING
Bitter Bliss: A Poetry Collection
PoetryMy fourth poetry collection, raw and original. My deepest fears, most insecure thoughts, and cruelest wishes. 🖤🖤Trigger warning: everything🖤🖤
