Box of Promises

This piece was originally written in March of 2014, but it was an accurate reflection of my feelings at the time that I can still remember. 

I found your box today.
I opened it, for old times sake
I read a few of your letters.
Only one made me cry.

Your poetry was cheesy
But I know I why I loved it so
It came from your heart, but it wasn’t
The poetry that made me cry.

Your analogies were ridiculous
Comparing us to candy and drugs
But they were accurate, and yet I know
It wasn’t those that made me cry.

In one of the earliest letters
Written on pages from your journal
The red ink forever imbedded
And the last line on the last page
Your promise made me cry.

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