it was illusion (bonus poem)

it was illusion that I let show
as a sparkle in my eye,
because there was nothing I wanted more
than to try and make this
work

but that's just what it became:
a struggle, a pain, an annoyance;
a weight dragging me down,
into what could be the perfect future,
but not for me

and suddenly words didn't work anymore
and I wasn't myself without them.


there's nothing I'd like more
than for it to have been true
otherwise
I never would have done that
to you.


but I am not her.
and I never was.
And there's nothing I want more now
than my certain slanted sun, my secret garden,
a glass coffin to rot in, sleeping
until the world has forgotten
what we very briefly dreamed of.


but my words do not work
when said from lips I wish were smiling,
and I am a coward; so these are my words.
I'm sorry,

but no.