i watched how your promises kept me alive—until they didn't.

 I used to look at you in your eyes. Most of the time I do while your hand's brushing through my hair with the background of the bluest skies. I'm caught inside those brownish iris, for it is the labyrinth of my dreams. Then you'll gaze upon mine too and three seconds are more than enough to spell your name in promises. I take you out an oath I murmured in front of God. Confidently, as if ignoring all the facts those trees whispered about.

As if this exact moment of life was all we ever hold. As if we didn't know how cruel's this world.

Still one day in a late autumn we're sitting side to side. I'll make you your favorite hot chocolate—which the color matched the color of your eyes—as you shared your life update. Most of the time all I do was to listen but sometimes you said you missed the way I talked—so I did. Forgive me for doing not good in any of it.

One time I was sitting there behind the window. Watching the snow drops quietly like they were on a secret show. Then the wind would hushes to my ears. It slips through my brain and I wonder if I was the uncrackable rock to your rains. I wonder if I was so difficult for you to understand.

But the next day we were laying on my couch so close. I love the way my body’s burned within your wrapped up arms. Just like how I love your mouth sweetly talk out promises. I kept mine myself but you’re one of the brave soldiers. So you told me you’d make sure to make the house. You’d put a garden of Lilies around it just like how I’d love. You told me from time to time we would wait for the change of seasons. You’d sing me a song you made and I’d make you coffee in return—you said grown ups don’t drink hot chocolate in autumn.

Morning after mornings, the bird's chirping as if reminding me no promises are made but fake. So I stood after them, I said what if they did fake, they'd keep me breath, they've made sure my heart won't stop a beat. So what if, what if they did fake?

Once you love me when I'm twenty five. We blew the candles—maybe the very last we ever have—and you promised to love me within the years. Right after them you promised to walk besides me through the next twenty fives. So I sat by the window staring at the snow drops: It's my twenty fifth already and I've made sure I put down your coffee.

But you don't come near me. I stretch my hands but I can no longer fight to reach your body.

I didn’t live in your house. I couldn’t find the Lilies garden I’d love. Yet I still wait for the change of seasons. I still wait for the day you’d sing me your song and rescue the coffee that’s no longer warm. The bird’s chirping is not the same anymore, they’ve been switching generation to generation and I couldn’t count. However I stood after them still, I said I hate how the promises you made come to all fakes.

I said I used to live out of all the promises you had. I said once they keep me breath. I said once they let my heart continue to beat. I said—in a tremble breath I hardly manage to catch—but I already lived to my next twenty fifth. And I didn’t think there’s more of your promises left. They’re no longer capable of keeping me alive.