The end of everything or a begining

What we had
could not be called love
it was so more
and worth so much less

Infatuation
inspiring lust
deep aching need
blinding us to the flaws

Yet understanding and acceptance
of human weakness
is the only path toward love
seeing something grow

Butterflies flit
beautiful
magical
when they rest on our ogre selves
at last we feel whole

But never staying long
always in need something new
when love requires work to belong

Fuck it
they are gone
calling it change
their chrysalis of wakening

I just call it
the end of everything
no lessons learned
that could ever take the place
of love