Al morir la promesa, nada sigue.

When promises die, the nothingness
dies in your lips.
Brave is such a five letter word.
Tears do not feel enough.
And tomorrow, at first light,
we will remember again
why we fought
and capture it in a golden
little box of pain,
but for barely ten seconds
before waking.
I should live those ten seconds forever.

In the void in my heart,
Where memories graze and do not hurt.

Al morir la promesa, nada sigue.
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