The happy endings I created in my mind
about us are starting to come apart
from the bindings in which I sewed
them onto the folds on my cerebellum.

They were supposed to serve there
as a reminder not to give up
and let you fall from my grasp.
They were supposed to be my motivation.
More importantly, they were supposed
to come true, but it doesn't
appear that they will.

What hurts the most is
I thought you were different.
Now you've just proved to me
that you're just like every other guy
I once had interest in.

You say and say how you won't hurt
me, but lately that's all you've been doing.

I love all of your reasons and excuses.
Each one is more entertaining
than the last.

As strong as I'm trying to be,
the words of wisdom I've been given
doesn't ease the pain any less.

I'm hoping the happy endings
can become whole again.
After all, you ripped
them right out of the
very fragile spine.