And now I am starting to make promises I can't keep.
I mean them at the moment, but there are hours to go before
tomorrow, and memories to fade in at prey to haunt me.
I think I want to do something that seems like the right thing.
At what cost to me though? I know I will plummet into paranoia
and fear and that vein of repulsion that spirals sometimes into
that terrible unmentionable: suicidal impulses. No. I can not
keep to my promise. I have to be selfish. I have to do more than
just barely survive. I deserve to do more than merely keep my promises
that were dumb ones in the first place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem