What Remains After Promises Rot
I believed the ground would hold, I let the guard drop
You held out your hands and told the worry to stop
Letting your sentences build a shelter against the cold
A structure of comfort I thought would never get old. But the weight of those empty words is heavier than lead
Promises hanging sharp as icicles above the bed
I waited for the thaw, waited for you to bring the fire
But every “always” melted into the muck and the mire.
This is what remains after promises rot
Pooling in the silence of the things you forgot
Collecting under doors you left slightly ajar
Proving exactly who you really are.
I watched your faith dry up like paper in a book
Dead petals hidden in places I was scared to look
You said you’d never leave
but all that stays around Is the silence in the hallway and a hollow sound
Keys in a dish, the steady drip of a tap
You never fixed a single thing you broke in the trap.
My reflection grew old in windows you walked through
Hands bracing for warmth I never got from you
You left your coat behind, hanging on the rack
But took everything that made me think I could handle the black.
Promises aren’t silk, they’re stones in the case
Some nights I count them, staring into space
I remember you on birthdays, not for the love
But for the way absence fits like a tight black glove
A knife run along the edge of a memory line
Cutting through the days that used to be mine.
This is what remains after promises rot
Pooling in the silence of the things you forgot
Collecting under doors you left slightly ajar
Proving exactly who you really are.
You said “I’ll always be on your side
” but I stood alone
Mouth full of old oaths made of dust and bone
Swallowing each one until I start to choke
There is no virtue in forgiving a bond that broke. I keep your promises in a drawer with useless receipts
Yellowed, curling, documenting the defeats
When people say “forever, ” I remember your voice
A moth inside a jar, Dying without a choice.