I laid out my promises on a blanket.
I chose which ones I'd make, which ones I'd break, and which ones I'd keep.

I pick one up to examine it thinking, where would this one be when I'm older?

Sometimes,
I choose in a rush, in a blurry space where liquid burns in my eyes, I ride on a promise I'm forced to cling to.

Sometimes,
I choose with wise judgment, I see myself keeping it until I don't have to.

Sometimes,
I make impossible promises, hollow reassurance, empty, delusional, and temporary.

Sometimes,
I make promises to you, ready with a puffed chest and proud smile. I will keep them all.