dear lover,
I promise I will stop bringing up his name over late-night calls,  cups a bitter coffee, and my lonely bed. I will give you my love like it is your first glass of water, your dry, thirsty eyes allow me to believe in second chances. I will never trap you, pin you down like butterflies in the frame, for my broken wings know the feeling of watching your love say goodbye behind a piece of glass. I promise we will make love without an expiration date tattooed on our inner thighs. I will hold you, despite worrying that it may be the last time. I promise I will wear your heart on my sleeve like new, putting the scratchy, hand-me-down fabric  back in the closet. I’m sorry if he still makes me cry; his name sounds like guns falling onto the oak tree roots outside of your window. I will grow from this.
I’m still waiting for those shots to stop ringing in my ears when you tell me you love me. I was just dragged out of a cold war, my blood is now too warm to clean up the battlefield he has made of me. dear lover, I promise one day my wounds will heal, that the only scars you will need to love are my stretch marks. I’m glad you understand that empty promises are Band-Aids over bones, they will never heal me. thank you for holding me as I bleed and cry, and thank you for letting me speak of him one last time. sincerely, - your lover
