Until the end of it

One day I will have
my death of her
and let her fade away
out of my heart
and we will part.

Even if she still
is part of me
I’ll bury every feeling
letting it slip into iniquity
and maiming myself
until what’s left
is only me.

Even if it be her
that makes me breathe,
that gives colour
to every leave,

even if it guts me
near to death
I’ll get rid of her
and my solitude
will be bliss

and there will be no one
to break my heart,
no one to tear me apart,
no one to love
and life will just
be the here and now
until the end of it.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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