if you can promise to be good

as the fan creaks with velocity and the wind outside

growls without space,

the door looms over my awaken eyes.

my posters scrape the looming sky

like the cruel idea of a merciful god.


if you can promise to be good,

i might hold on until tomorrow.

i might try and

convince myself

to make it through the night.


and as the carpet turns on itself,

curling at each corner,

the furnishings rust.

my figurines waltz and turn

through each rock and stone


these pillows hurt my neck

and you burn a hole into my chest

but with each promise you make,

each promise to be good,

i’m left further downstream, waiting.