I’ll keep your secrets,
but you won’t keep me.
You’ll spend time with me,
and you’ll tell me promises
that aren’t quite lies, yet.
But I know they will be.
You'll only throw me out,
just leave me standing there.
The lash of words you say
will cut like daggers
straight through me.

But your secrets won’t leak out
and I won’t seek for revenge.
Instead, I let you go.
Knowing full well that you’ll regret
your actions and your crushing words.
I can’t say how long it will
take you to realize it, but you will.
And when you do, you’ll come back,
just like they all do.

You’ll start to express how sorry you are.
For all of the terrible things you said to me.
How I didn’t deserve any of it.
How you were so wrong.
How you hope I’ll forgive you.
And I’ll tell you what I tell the rest.
          It’s fine. It’s just life. I’m not one to hold
          a grudge and I haven’t. Thank you for
          your apology, I really appreciate it.

And we’ll talk for a while;
try to get back to old times.
But it won’t work.
You’ve already hurt me.
And from that I grew, and I learned.
But I didn’t learn enough
to not live the story again and again.

The thing is: I don’t have to be nice.
I could share your secrets with the world.
I could make your life hell,
just like you’ve made mine.
I don’t have to forgive you.
I could hate you.

But that’s not how I am.
And even though time and time again
I go on abandoned and unappreciated
I still swear to keep your secrets safe.
I still meant the statements that followed every “I promise”
And I still care about you.

But not in the same way I used to.
You were still wrong, and now I just wish you the best.