dear lover,

          I promise I will stop bringing up his name
over late-night calls, 
cups of bitter coffee,
and my lonely bed.
          I will give you my love
like it is your first glass of water,
your dry, thirsty eyes allow me
to believe in second chances.
          I will never trap you,
pin you down like butterflies in the frame,
for my broken wings know the feeling
of watching your love say goodbye
behind a piece of glass.
          I promise we will make love
without an expiration date tattooed
on our inner thighs.
          I will hold you, despite wondering
if this is the last time your hands
will touch mine.
          I promise I will wear your heart on my sleeve
like a new coat,
putting the scratchy, hand-me-down fabric 
back in the closet.
          I’m sorry if he still makes me cry.
his name still sounds like guns falling
onto the oak tree roots outside of your window.
          I will grow from this.
I’m still waiting for those shots to stop ringing in my ears
when you tell me you love me.
I was just dragged out of a cold war,
my blood is now too warm to clean up
the battlefield he has made of me.
dear lover,
          I promise one day my wounds will heal,
that the only scars you will need to love
are my stretch marks.
          I’m glad you understand
that empty promises are Band-Aids over bones,
they will never heal me.
thank you for holding me as I bleed and cry,
and thank you for letting me speak of him
one last time.
          sincerely,
                    -me