pity pinky promise

you told me when I was five

that when I turned fourteen youd die

like you were cursed,

like it was fate

but it was just another lie you made

a ruined saved the date.

you turned my birthday into a death sentence,

a ticking clock strapped into my chest

you made yourself the victim,

and left us holding the mess.

you chose the day,

you chose the year,

on the anniversary,

you disappeared.

september is slaughter

candles i hate

every flame feels like

another mistake

you tied my worth

to the day you left

a child’s whole life

you turned to regret.

i was twelve, not fourteen,

wasn’t ready, wasn’t grown

but you broke your pinky promise

and left me alone.

bottles and toys scattered the floor

your shadow waiting outside the door/morgue

you said it was fate but it was just blame

your suicide screaming my own mothers name.

no fairytale ending, no story to keep

just silence and secrets that cut too deep

you said it was written, you said it was planned,

but it was just your selfish demands.

september is slaughter

but we will grow

your ghost can linger

but we’ll live now

you tied my worth

to you being dead

your voice in my head

but i’ll speak instead

september is slaughter

but i won’t allow   

myself to surrender

to not live now

even in september

i will be heard.

you tied my worth

to your suicide

but my voice is louder

and i will not be shy.

september is slaughter

but i will show

that i am much stronger

and i will grow

from how you tied my worth

to you being dead.

im probably not over it

09/13/2025