this is the end?

beautiful friend, the end

never into your eyes to look, again

this is the stutterting start-stopping heart stomping hullabaloo



it must be nice to have a moment to relax, let your guard down
must be nice, feeling like you've reached the End of the Hard Times
so nice, even if it's just a respite, it has seasons you can plan round

and so in this i imagine it must be very hard to apprehend
to puzzle out
to infer
to even give credit to

(the fact that some people don't get the things you have, will never have the things you get)

a different kind of life

so may this be the end
of miserable bellyaching
of mooning and moaning and pissing
of naive belief in possible relief
of this hopeless love and baseless hope and may all those ends
turn to ash on your tongue

trust is so powerful and so brittle
strong but easily wounded
would i had taken up the metallurgy of human souls
that i might now yet mend it, strengthen it

but if i did, could i trust it?