The “mark” of my promises

I still look at the one scar you left me with before I could fulfil my promise. I’m not a liar you see. The day you told me you’re insecure and feel tangled in your own body, I knew I had to embody a safe place. It gave me another scar on my face. I made sure my chest became a shelter for you and a coffin for your problems. The scar faded away. I’m now left with one. The day you told me you want to fly but your body makes it all but impossible. I promised I’d take off my wings and give them to you to cease your struggle. I had yet another scar. Breaking you out of your cocoon was my only power. My back hurt in order to make your wings sprout. Yet, you fled with my wings. I’m so proud. The scar faded away. I’m still left with one. The day you told me you want people to look at you the way you looked at the world. I promised I’d read you like a poem to uncurl. I got a scar. The poem that expresses love and hate...