Poetry

The Promise

“Promise that you’ll hold me when I break.
That way I’ll know, everything will be alright.”

For the longest time, I’ve denied myself the ability to truly feel. I’ve hidden myself behind barriers of apathy, trying to numb everything. My emotions. My mind. I even turned off my muse. But I came to realize that I was only torturing myself. I chose numbness in a futile attempt at putting up a mask. An attempt to be more normal than I actually am. I even found myself joking and offering half-hearted giggles to further hide from the truth. I was suffering, just as I always have. And, thinking back, I’m not entirely sure what the reason was for doing it at all. Maybe it was just an automatic reaction. Maybe it was something that lasted far longer than I meant. But you saw right through me. You saw the cracks that have begun to show. More than that, I feel the weight of what I’ve put on my shoulders and I’m tired of carrying it with me. So I have no choice but to drop the façade and let it all back in again. Just, promise me that you’ll hold me when I break. That way I’ll know, everything will be alright.

© Sarah Doughty

Just, promise me that
it’s okay I’m not better.

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2 thoughts on “The Promise”

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