And In The End

Mortified by Sarah Motley, @smotleycrue. Oil on canvas.
Mortified by Sarah Motley, @smotleycrue. Oil on canvas.


It was the beginning of the end.
A marriage now only in name
no longer in practice.
The small, nagging observances
that unsettled my mind.
The missing moments in time that flitted
just out of range of my perceptions.
But somehow I knew.
It was the beginning of the end.

Time didn’t heal this wound, rather it tore at it
with the cold persistence of a leaky faucet.
Mindlessly, endlessly dripping,
leaking out more of the deception
seeping more into my consciousness
squeezing of my bubble of content.
The end has begun.

I couldn’t reason with it,
couldn’t understand it,
tried to deny it.
Yet it continued.
The pain didn’t matter, nor did the tears.
Many hours spent wondering,
It was poisoning my heart,
eating at my soul.
The end is firmly upon us now.

I am only a spectator now to the carnage
beside myself, I watch
the remaining pieces quiver and falter
no longer able to bear
the burden of deception and mistrust
crumbling under
the staggering weight of betrayal.
There’s no turning back now; the end is almost at the end.

The sting of reality left welts on my soul
raw and burning, I could no longer
mask the pain or cover the damage.
The only recourse now is to remove the cancerous growth.
I must stop it from sucking any more life from me
I must be released from the smothering grip of shadows
I must let him go and let him pursue all
the others he is chooses to pursue.
The end is done.
The end is finished with me.


The smoke is clearing from the remains.
The light is brighter.
Now I’m ready to begin.




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