I never keep my promises
Not ever, ever, ever. No.
Such unbearable responsibility,
That of keeping to one's word.

And yet I've learned to hate,
(Loathe?) the tepid lies that
Linger, so long after release,
On tainted tongue just like
The aftertaste of sour milk
Burning disgust through me.

Still the words slip from me
Sly, cunning, a teasing trap,
Tragic comfort for the naive
Who seriously still believe
That I mean what I say.

And as I break another heart
I revel in the revulsion ripping
Through my blackened soul:

I cannot keep a promise
But my conscience records my crimes.