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a poem by Kelcy Taylor

You put these chains around my wrists

and painted them gold, so I’d never want

to leave. But I always was a silver

kind of girl. You’re an ice cream

headache; so bitterly sweet. But

is it ever really worth the pain?

I found the answer just a little too late.


Don’t you just hate

hearing someone make

a promise you know right

then and there they’ll never

keep? I know I do, but

that’s me. I hate myself.

But you’re an ice cream headache.


Maybe next time, I’ll remember to say

“no” to you. And maybe next time,

I’ll know all the things not to do.

Maybe next time around, I won’t

be stupid enough to promise you

I’ll always be here.


Maybe next time.

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