a poem by Kelcy Taylor
You put these chains around my wrists
and painted them gold, so I’d never want
to leave. But I always was a silver
kind of girl. You’re an ice cream
headache; so bitterly sweet. But
is it ever really worth the pain?
I found the answer just a little too late.
Don’t you just hate
hearing someone make
a promise you know right
then and there they’ll never
keep? I know I do, but
that’s me. I hate myself.
But you’re an ice cream headache.
Maybe next time, I’ll remember to say
“no” to you. And maybe next time,
I’ll know all the things not to do.
Maybe next time around, I won’t
be stupid enough to promise you
I’ll always be here.
Maybe next time.
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