It was everything I ever dreamed it wouldn’t be.
What is the point imagining an outcome I can never predict?
Always disappointed.
Always second best.
Never what I wanted.
Am I really shocked?
Haven’t years of disappointment chipped away at any hope or a happy lie?
Why is my hopeful optimism so resilient
When I’m always let down.
Picture me the fool in this situation.
Am I really surprised?
Tearing away at this fantasy
I’ve built for us.
Bit by bit, you take away
The sense of security I’ve struggled to hold onto.
poetryburns 