asking for forgiveness when you know not what you're doing

the end is near

the end is clear

we part

like broken ends of a single strand of hair we didn't care for in time. you know. when it would have mattered.

it is the end, my dear,

we are talking about the end here.

we grieve

we mope

we sulk

we weep

we skulk

we leave

the end i fear,

that end is here

my dear.

ill prepared, incapacitated, in denial,

we think of new beginnings.