I can't sleep, the alarm clock ticks like my broken heart cracks looking at the photographs. I can't fight the past, or the future. You were my first; love of course. You held my hand when my feet couldn't withstand the weight that flooded my shoulders. The grief that soaked my feet into promises that were broken. You promised you'd always hold my head when my tears got to heavy. You promised you'd hold my hand when the decision making became to much of a burden. You promised me a future, a husband. You promised me a family, a infinity of happy days. You promised me you.
Promises are wasted breath without commitment. Promises are meant to be kept, not broken.