This is where my story ends.

Because tomorrow,

I’ll exist as someone else.

Someone different.

Someone real.

Someone who is worthy of the love you possess.

Not in the sense of gifts or objects,

But in the sense of your most battered organ.

Because when it comes to your heart,

I’ve always been the highest bidder.

Never enough to take it all.

Never enough to fall.

So here I remain,

Locked within these walls of flesh,

Desperate for validation.

This is where my story ends.

Because tomorrow…

I’ll exist only as a figment of your memory,

Fading out.