Credited to Lil Rabbit Luvs Musikk and titled «A happily Ever After Based On Lies», the poem begins as a love declaration and ends as a confession. Its speaker addresses a "you" who fills every corner of their life: "my future," "my everything," "my world." By the final lines, that devotion has turned into recognition. The person they cannot live without is also the person they cannot face, and the poem suggests the two are one and the same. The title supplies the verdict in advance. A "happily ever after" is a fairy-tale ending, and here it rests on lies, perhaps ones told to a lover, perhaps ones the speaker tells themselves.
The poem is free verse, with no rhyme and no steady metre. Its rhythm comes from repetition. Nearly every line opens with "My" or "You are," so the poem reads like a litany, one claim stacked on another. The effect is both devout and obsessive. The speaker is not describing a relationship so much as circling it. Time collapses in the same way. The poem opens with "my future," then offers "my past / Present / And my future," as if the beloved has swallowed every tense and left no space outside them.
The first cracks appear early. "My everything" is followed at once by "My heartache, / Heartbreak," and that last word sits alone on its line, a small blow after the comma's brief pause. The pairing of near-synonyms feels like an escalation, from a dull ache to a break. Later the list quietly changes character: "My thoughts / My mistakes / My reality." Mistakes sit between thoughts and reality as though they were equally ordinary, which says a lot about how the speaker lives with this person. Even the fragment "My flaws / And my imperfections" has no verb and nothing to attach to. It simply hangs there, an admission with no explanation.
The turning point is the blunt sentence "You are me." Until then, "you" could be a lover. Afterward it begins to look like a second self, a mirror or a split in the speaker's own mind. That reading is an inference from the text, but the lines that follow support it. "My prefect flawed imperfections" is clearly meant as "perfect," and the oxymoron works either way: the speaker finds perfection in the very thing they call a flaw. Then comes "My walking, talking, breathing disaster." Three present participles give the disaster a body and make it alive and constant. It cannot be switched off or left behind. The next line, "My nightmare," is only two words, and its shortness makes it hit harder than the longer phrase before it.
The ending changes the poem's grammar. Up to this point the lines have been fragments, mostly nouns held up by the repeated "My." Only now does the speaker say "I" and speak in full sentences with full stops: "Until I realize I am only running from myself. / I will remain a shadow." The verb "running" is the first real motion in a poem that has mostly been still, and it recasts the earlier lines as a kind of flight. Loving, blaming and clinging to "you" have been ways of avoiding the self. The final sentence is deliberately slippery. "Until" promises a change, yet the full stop after "myself" and the flat "I will remain" leave it unclear whether the realization has happened or is still to come. A shadow is also a precise image for the speaker's state. It has no substance of its own and exists only as the dark shape of something else, much as the speaker has described their life with "you."
The poem is worth reading for its economy. It uses plain words and almost no decoration, and it still manages a full emotional arc, from worship to resentment to self-recognition. The title's irony deepens as it goes: the "lie" may be that the beloved is a separate person who could rescue or ruin the speaker, when the real subject is the speaker's own unresolved self. Its rough edges, such as the loose punctuation and the slip in "prefect," give it the feel of something written in the heat of the moment. That suits a poem about a mind that cannot stop circling what it most needs to face.