A Promise is(nt) a Promise

i close my eyes and remember the days
when we would chase dreams like
we would chase fireflies
and we only cried over
skinned knees
and broken dolls
(never broken hearts and
scathed up wrists, ohno)
and as we grew older we
always promised we would never be
like those girls
but look what we've become,
mirror images of
our mistakes and pain
its ohso obvious now that
good girls grow up to be
bad whores