Broken Promises (Poem)

You burned me,

left my heart on fire,

and my skin scorched,

begging for mercy.

You bloodied my wounds,

and then doused them in salt,

all in the reality of your broken words.

You told me we would be back

one day

when I was old enough

to get drunk without fear

of being exposed.

Together, we would be intoxicated

by the live music,

and the bars,

and the cowboy boots covering Northern feet,

but instead you took my longing heart,

and every piece I had yet to make

whole,

and you brought them to your

afterlife.

If your words had such little weight

how come they felt so heavy

when they left me?

When did a promise become

so easily breakable?