It has been ten months
eighteen days
and seven hours
since you told me everything was going to be okay
you promised me and I so wanted
to believe you.
I've counted down the days
holding onto that promise that everything
would be okay.
But as the days turned to weeks and those
into months
I realized you promised me something
that you couldn't give me
you had no idea
whether i would get better or not
I suppose
you simply wanted me to feel better in the moment
but you shouldn't have promised me something
so impossible.
But that last piece of your empty promise
was bled out today as it has every day
for the ten months, eighteen days
and seven hours
since you told me.
But tell me now, think this time as you watch me bleed,
will everything be okay?
(E.B)
YOU ARE READING
Deadly Games Part 2
PoetryContinuation of Deadly Games. Poems mainly about mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety, bpd, and OCD
