Fuses

You find it hard to show,
what I need to know.
You bury it beneath the snow,
and let go.

You called it as an end.
As uncertain as a friend,
who's words you comprehend,
as the truth.

And you fall,
in to it all.
I'm sorry to say.
Please see it my way,
and I'm tired of excuses,
please mend the fuses,
of our love.

You drop to your knees.
Rehearsing your speech,
Could you ever utter a please?
For me.

No longer default.
Won't perform a summersault.
At your every command.
Anymore.

And you fall,
out of it all.
Yet I'm sorry to say,
won't you see it my way.
'Cause I'm tired of excuses,
trying to mend back the fuses,
of our love.