̶ ̶ xliii. MY OATH TO YOU.
the me you meet in three years will not be the same me you fell in love with. she'll be stronger, her poems won't be drenched in the sadness you left her with. she will be her own goddess to her own temple, no longer the body that allowed you to easily snake your fingers into. she'll smile at you as you walk by, not hiding herself in the darkness of a sweatshirt hoodie with crossed fingers that hope you don't notice who she is. you'll hear of her from strangers you've never seen, notice how much she begins to appear as a name you've once heard of, feel the empty pit of your stomach cave in as you finally realize how happy she is without you.
the me you'll meet in three years will no longer be scared of you, but instead say thank you for sculpting her into the strong hearted woman she always dreamed of becoming.
YOU ARE READING
soon.
Poetryxvi, april. (i). cotton mouth with a heavy heart. © playlist poetry h.r. : #47
