#promisesproject

my resistance is in pieces scattered on the floor around our bed when the phone rings at three in the morning as your brother rewinds and repeats being stranded in a middle-of-everywhere town exhausted of parlor tricks that pay for a corner of a place to live so that he can wipe his nose in private you're crying shiver-shaking your nightgown from your shoulders when I wake up to find the love I had just made with you stuffed like a lost sock between the sheets and ornate comforter my mother gave us last Christmas

my fake nails go click click click against the keyboard

the sound distracting me just enough that I forget what I'm writing

a moment or two not about you or him or even me

just the click click click  of real time passing under false pretenses

taking the time to disappear into sheets that aren't mine except on weekends and even though we're sticking with

whatever 

I'll be sure to leave just enough of me on his pillow that he won't be able to dream without thinking of me

tonight is just one more promise you have broken the I'll always be here for you promise that is only ever made to smooth things over long enough to disappear seamlessly

and I don't think I will ever believe anyone again since you were the last person I ever expected to lie to me

but here I am

i'm really good at beginnings (i've started my 100 line poem at least five different times in the past three days and i have a whole shoe box full of stories that barely make it to the rising action) i guess it's the promise of the new-ness the taste of possibility even when i have all the details planned out postcard picture perfect

but i've never been any good at endings i usually just try to avoid them at all costs

this is no different