binding [but not kept]
i made a promise—
a shackle,
a chain,
a weight to bear—
inked it into my skin,
let it hover
behind my throat;
a secret agreement;
so why do i
feel like my chest
is an eternity
and a fortnight
lighter?
This poem is about:
Me
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741