To conclude

Photo by Lubo Minar on Unsplash

Nothing ever ends well.
 The sense of dread
 you sometimes get
 is all too real. Don’t brush it off.
Deals will be broken.
 Your heart too.
 What you thought would never
 end on a bad note
 becomes a pool of dried blood,
 a flood on the floor
 that leaves a stain
 with jagged edges that will scrape
 at your heels and pinch your toes
 so hard to make your eyes smart.

Nothing ever ends well.
 Don’t get fooled by promises
 made and sealed
 with a kiss. 
 You let the friend go
 when you took on the lover
 and if it turns with the weather
 you will always and forever
 need a thick sweater
 to keep out the cold.
 Remember, nothing ever ends well.
 It’s a myth made by minds
 that want to go into enchanted forests
 eat wild berries that stain the tongue
 and swing widely from rungs
 to fall into waiting arms
 that won’t be there.
 The leaves will crunch and crackle
 under your weight
 as your spine breaks
 and you may never walk again.
 The spirit may remake itself, sure.
 But that’s the subject of another poem.
 Tonight, just remember
 nothing, when it ends, ends well.