Remember that autumn night?
Streaked with vermillion, and enveloped in a crisp breeze.
That night, we gazed upon the heavens.
Which were alight with invitations, to parties that were long since over.
That night, we made a promise.
You and I.
But our promise, was akin to wrapping ourselves in a cold blanket.
The warmth could never take hold.
No matter how strongly we wished-
miracles don’t exist.
Within our home, we lay still, cocooned within the biting blanket.
A promise,
is a promise,
right?
Phantasms linger still, crowding each room of this creaky house.
Whispering, mumbling, apparitions from beyond the void.
Shoulder to shoulder, we slowly suffocate. Our guests no longer a comfort, but a curse.
Please, lay your head down,
and go back to sleep.
Are you content with accepting this “white lie”?
For the sake of our promise, it’s best if we left those skeletons settle.
Hey you, don’t despair.
It’s not as though you’ll be left to gaze upon the stars alone.
After all,
a promise,
is a promise.
You, who thought that if you ran fast enough, you could reach the end of a rainbow.
Are you content with this promise?
Because that too, turned out to be simply-
wishful thinking.
Reality lies and deceives. But you can trust me.
Even if we’re both shivering in this blanket, far past the event horizon.
After all, we’re bound by oath.
When this star finally sputters, dims, and dies away,
We’ll be as two corpses in one grave.
Because I am you, and you are me.