It didn't end well

It didn't end well.
Like a runaway Ferris wheel slowly rolling towards the sea
Fun for awhile but now a pile of metal washed away by the tide.
But before that I felt like it was perfect.
Like violet clouds shrouding autumn
Like seltzer, straight from the bottle.
Small pleasures that felt like masterpieces
As if they were painted by Monet
Or composed by Paul Desmond,
Because when you have a quintuple meter running through your veins
In the key of E-flat minor
You can't help but close your eyes and nod your head.
But I saw it coming, like a cat falling from a rooftop terrace,
Who has a sneaking suspicion that she is not going to land on her feet this time.
So now I am sitting here, among stacks and stacks of paperbacks,
My neck in a brace,
Waiting for the tide to return.