i told you not to make
   me the anchor that tames you down
   whenever you feel like you're
       drowning again;
you promised not to look at me
   as if I'm the sun and you haven't
   tasted the light in such a long
   time inside all the frigid darkness
       you’ve enveloped yourself in;
you said you won't cling on me
   like the attachment a flame has
   on all the cigarette sticks you perpetually have
   between your lips, waiting, until each fire coughs up
        its last smoke;
       (it wasn't long before I
          coughed mine.)

i told you, i told you, i told you,
     the I wouldn't stay long—
     that I wanted to lessen the damage
     that I'll inflict on you; so I made you
     promise and
you promised, you promised, you promised,
     that you'll never depend on me
     as if I'm the only person who can ignite your soul
  
but you didn't keep your words
    and I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I kept mine

    *—L.m