The Promises

The unforgiving taste of a promise 
That you know you cannot keep 
Like downing a bottle of wine
And saying you won't open the second
Or the third
Because promises are easy
Like drinking alone
But what if you were told
Every promise you made and didn't fulfill
You would lose a limb, an arm or a leg
Cut off and given to the person you let down
If that was true then most people would have only their organs
And a pile of arms and legs of other people
Trying to sew and stitch them onto their own bodies
To the places where they wouldn't fit
Because promises are mismatched pieces
That will never fit by the words of one and actions of another
So we are just limbless masses 
Bleeding on the floor
Choking on the ignorant hope of a promise. 

-anna sluder

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