The VowKeeper

THE VOWKEEPER’S GRAVEYARD

Not a graveyard of people.

A graveyard of promises.

Of versions of myself.

Of names I once answered to.

Of lives I thought I would live.

Of people I loved until there was nothing left of me to give them.

Every headstone remembers something.

I loved someone here.

I failed someone here.

I became someone here.

I survived this.

And at the very back of the graveyard stands one blank stone.

No name.

No date.

No epitaph.

Nothing.

Because I haven’t decided what version of me will be buried there yet.

Maybe it will be the girl who spent her whole life apologizing for surviving.

Maybe it will be the woman who thought she had to bleed for every promise she ever made.

Or maybe

for once

there won’t be anyone buried there at all.

Because the Vowkeeper was never meant to live in the graveyard.

She was only meant to remember what was buried there.

And walk out.