I broke a promise today I broke it with a scorching crimson ice-pick Every ivory post within me cried “irony” as I broke it down the middle. It slept in me, crept into every new relationship, snuck it’s way between my teeth and crawled out saying “I’m sorry, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” It spoke for me, to me, Gave me an album of pressed daisies and convinced me that they were more beautiful that way. It sat in the sun with me while I dried out, carried me to a bed of concrete, tenderly set a dense, glacial mass onto my frame, weighed it down with jaded boulders and melancholy pebbles, until I was flat. It sighed and said “you’re safe now” Another pressed daisy Preserved Pristine Protected It told me I deserved to be clean, that I’d never be neglected again. It vowed to shelter me, to defend me, to guard me, Under one condition: I’d never love again. Souls came and went, taking pebbles and adding boulders. Until one came and instead handed me the weapon. Scorching crimson iron raced to my palms, sent waves through my eyes as I split it down the middle. It sputtered hissed roared and disintegrated.
So I made a new promise, you.
