THE END

This is the end:

I won't fall at your heels. I will break

promises, give up

these ghosts in exchange

for shattered eternities. This is the end:

I won't collapse in your stagnant eyes.

I won't

scour my shadow

on yours again.

I will open my mouth

-- WIDE --

I will tauten. I will nail

a web of spurs

above my catechism

and stir

my absent sanity.

I will not love you to the end

of this pilgrimage

I want to flay you,

to strip you

from my surface. I want

my grip to unshackle

your grip

I don't want to be alive

with my voice

haunting

yet another sordid

love song.

For the sake of my armouries:

THIS IS THE END.

I will die now, love. Do not torment me.

I will die. I'll have an untroubled expression

-- and I will die, I will die.

Wether you loved me or not.

this is the end

the untouched earth.

Categories of crow's feet

and ashtray mouths.

It won't be the way

we did it before:

devouring you blindly;

trusting you will not

awaken and leave me.

It will be something different.

Something imperfect,

Something childish.

Something just like this, only

cut to the bone.