Going Back On a word given to Myself

I have nursed some heartbreaks,
Like you nurse old memories,
Memories of the shower
That drenched you to the bone,
Or the time you realized that God
Was always away on an extended vacation.
Of summers spent against rushing days,
Or the sound of mountains speaking,
To each other through the mist.
Some heartbreaks I have preserved,
Like old leaves marking out pages
Which once spoke to me, of me.
Your handwriting still burns in the pages,
Like the candle in a mountain hut,
Alone,but oh so powerful.
Hissing, like damp firewood,
The words are past their expiry date,
Mumbling on how I had gone back
On my word never to write about you.