The lights began dancing around the room

And I sucked in the promising enticement

That for once, without the blinding little asterisk a the bottom of the page

That says “This one probably won’t work out either”

The genuine joy in my face would not be dragged down

by my own predetermined certainty of doom.

The binding I tied so heavily around myself

Let loose into coils on the floor

And you picked up each one

Strand my pathetic strand

And watched me dance in vulnerability

Dance in your flashing lights

Knowing you had no intention,

Of being there when the lights went out.

And when I left that night,

I swear I could almost hear you whisper,

“Did you really think you’d be happy again?”