You promised that your hand would always be there.
Waiting.
An anchor I could hold onto as I fought the current,
the harsh chop of my despair.

You promised your shoulder would always be a shelter.
In the midst of my chaos,
a gentle place to rest.

You promised me your light would be my lamp, illuminating all the shadows that came alive at night.

You promised "first, do no harm", and I believed. Believed I could trust...