When I was 15, I learned promises can be empty.
They’ll open the door,
Lead you inside.
Look you right in the eyes and lie.
They’ll promise you, “I’ll be back.”
Then they slam the door and all will go black,
Leaving you waiting, yearning for their light.
After a while you’ll learn that they’ve left you for good, and wonder:
“who gave you the right?”
Then whisper:
“who gave you the right?”
Then cry:
“Who gave you the right?”
Then scream:
“WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”
While your voice and heart crack,
But the simple fact is,
It doesn’t matter now.
Now, it’s not about them. It’s about you.
They left. They’re through.
Pick yourself up, put yourself back together.
Forget about them, throw away the control they had over you before, find the key, twist off the padlock and step through that **** door,
And promise yourself not to go back there anymore.