to get to the point of “neverending love”

               “i don’t even know,”

                you tell me,

               “perhaps i’ve peaked

                or maybe i’ve just

                looked into a mirror

                one too many times

                the point is-

               that something has

               changed inside my brain

               to which things that

                i had said before seem so

               pointless and stupid

                now looking back.”

               you started listing

                petty excuses like:

              “i have an illness that

                cannot seemed to be

                contained in such a fragile

                corpse such as mine

                which forces me to

                break peoples’ hearts

               and crush souls into

                a fine powder with the

                purse of my lips.”

                your hands were always

                steady as you told me

                that you had lied before

                that you had

                given up hope that i

                would come to my senses

                and accept you for

                who you were;

              “a struggling promise with

                 a sense of misdirection.”

                the point is

                 that you told me

                 that you loved me,

                that you wanted me back,

                that you missed me

                 the point is

                 that i turned around,

                that i walked right out,

                that i never looked back

                 because if i did,

                my heart would just-

                be crushed again.