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 both at the same time. 

The poem that makes me 

both smile and whine.

The scar faded. One scar left.


People ask me why I’m unfaithful.

Why I don’t keep my word.

Why I don’t fulfil

that promise that my scar holds still.

Little do they know I promised a forever. 

You’re now a piece of my heart.

Before I could attain my promise, death did us part.








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