Promises, avowals.
You swore, didn’t you? To stay,
Through thick and thin, for better or for worse,
As goes the adage. As have been the sweet nothings
since time immemorial.
I knew better, and I have, for some time now.
For words have failed to be the salve to my wounds
And I wanted more,
More than your saccharine placations,
More than the mirage of a shining future,
More than the home we built for ourselves in our
dreams.
I wanted…realities. Small, steady, live realities
That I could envelop myself in,
That I could replace my armour with,
That I could finally call home.
But here we are instead,
On opposite ends of a bridge burnt to its very skeleton,
And I could not care less if it were to turn to ashes,
And drift away in the whistling winds, just as your words
did.
So I raise the flame to its denouement
And bury the albatross for good.
