Surety

It lays thick
in the pit of my stomach
yearning, like a wick
for something to ignite
and tip this feeling -
this reeling -
to agony or bliss
but not only this -
this burning surety
that something cataclysmic
is going to warp everything.
Through these past two years,
all the swallowed down tears
and the push and shove
of this "great" thing called love,
I have carried on,
sang my songs
and pretended
that I had been mislead
by my so-called prince charming
with his false and disarming
smile that prevaricated
our entire relationship,
and now all that's left of it
is a pile of fibs
and stories
that get more and more boring
every time they're told,
yet you expect them to hold
my undivided mind.
Well I'm done being kind
and force feeding you more chances
when that only enhances
my future pain
which cycles like rain
if stay by your side,
but I refuse to hide;
so I'll simply testify
that I'm sore -
that I'm sure
that I'm done.