I made you
a promise.
But I don't know
if I can keep to it.
I'm weak,
I know.
I can feel
your raging disappointment.
Sorry to be me.
Haha, and you called me perfect.
Regretting that line?
Because I regret hearing it.
It only makes me hurt worse inside.
Knowing that I failed you.
I can feel
my breath drag
into my body in raggedy gasps
and feel my heart ache
worse adn worse
as it pumps,
as it expands.
You made me hurt,
yeah, that's true.
But huney,
you never hurt me worse
than when you said
I'd never see you again.
You cut me deep,
and the blood still comes.
You made me a promise,
why am I the only one holding it?
June-14th-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem