Promise

When on deck to read a sad poem
and not feeling the ambiance
I think about calling.
You always pick up,
but never answer.

And if called on to make a promise,
I think back to how caustic
our pinkie contracts ending up being.

The one person I promised unending honesty to,
and I'm still not relieved,
though when I asked you to release me from my promise
to keep breathing two years after we ceased to be,
you did with barely even a peace sign.

The last time I saw you I guess I picked a fight.
All I wanted was to express my mind
and you'd probably see that I was genuine
were you not hardened from all the nights I made you cry.

But there's a lot that we'll forget and more we'll never know
I commit to prose, so I can let it go
When you dropped this, I was speechless:
"Don't make a girl a promise, if you know you can't keep it."
The signature grin spread across your face
most that trip, you just stared into space
but have you even played the game you're quoting?
I know you try your hardest not to think about us,
so thank you for taking the plunge
just to dredge up some way to make me happy.

But I knew 'bout promises before you were a thought.

And I promise
I'm learning the dangers of promises and honesty.
I gotta lock up what's inside of me or I make people unhappy.
And I promise
I'm learning to fake it when I'm despondent and crestfallen

I got your zine, and another featuring me
Says you're dreaming of riches and fame,
but I don't hear the weakest of sqeaks
Wish you gave me more reason to keep fighting,
what happened to writing,
to our friendship, to everything you told yourself you'd be?

I promise when I'm demented the last words I'm forgetting are
"You're not as interesting as I thought you were."
At first it seemed a strange compliment, but then
"I want someone with passion"
cleared up that image.

Well, in that we are agreed.
So I've made it my creed to spend time writing,
rather than grinding out games of League.

Now you're worth more for inspiration than conversation
not as in angels singing, rather rage against the machine
And I promise you'll make it into print -
don't worry, I'll keep your name off it
I never cared for authorship, that was your dream
But maybe you'll get it at my book signing

I promise I would take care of you if I could,
but you're gonna have to.
Can't be together or BFFs,
and you set fire to the third door
Have you tread through trees much recently?
Beyond your hidden headspace clearing?

If I move like a wildfire, then you are the forest
and old growth takes resurgence from flames.
I know I've no right to your glow,
but even at this distance I should see towering smoke.
My strange charisma never came from charm or style,
I simply believe we still mean something after our lives end.

Speaking of, this poem is overdue,
but I'll leave you with this last insight
from my favorite videogame. You can write it
over your memory of me, it's the Gravemind's line:

"I? I am a monument to all your sins."
Let's not just remember. I'm making retrofits.

And I promise
I'll always like you.