before the final tear

it's falling apart
one tear
at a time
and there's a grin
beneath
the scowl -
a shuttering
escape
under the
slick -
a grumble
beneath the howl.

and the hate
that used
to subside
has bent
into nowhere -
a dying thing
that
we all bear
from one time to the next.

the end
is a new beginning,
stripping
away
a layer of dirt,
exposing the bone
beneath the hurt.

the troubles
that once
bound us
is a degree
of dust
upon an open
field
of numbing
regret.

how the sun
shines
through the darkness
of desire
and brings us
here upon
open wounds,
healing
from the hate
of it all.

we grow beyond
the acts
of desperation
into a melting
sympathy
that loosens
the bones,
and beneath it all
is this hope
that we'll
find
what we're looking
for before
the end
comes
ripping.