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Finis Patior
‘Finis Patior’
Roughly meaning “I suffer the end”.
Nostalgia for a fresh wound.
I feel it as I sign my name in the corner of my artwork.
In the drive home from a day with friends.
In the credits after a movie.
In goodbyes.
In dial tones.
In freshly torn presents.
In a dream faded to obscurity.
In the epilogues of books.
In the bows after a play or musical.
The rush of realization,
That it’s over.
An empty space left within me.
A vacancy that throbs and fills with blood.
It exists in all of us,
That aching hollowness that follows joy.
We suffer the end.
Roughly meaning “I suffer the end”.
Nostalgia for a fresh wound.
I feel it as I sign my name in the corner of my artwork.
In the drive home from a day with friends.
In the credits after a movie.
In goodbyes.
In dial tones.
In freshly torn presents.
In a dream faded to obscurity.
In the epilogues of books.
In the bows after a play or musical.
The rush of realization,
That it’s over.
An empty space left within me.
A vacancy that throbs and fills with blood.
It exists in all of us,
That aching hollowness that follows joy.
We suffer the end.
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