Fag ends

Loose ends flailing,
fag ends, never done.
The realisation last night 
sharp and straight
that nothing is ever worked out 
and never will be.
Not the first time 
but the voice is like a panther 
showing who to love, hate,
admire, dismiss
what to say and what to write.
I was not wrong all along and 
compulsive thought tails off 
until dawn resets the custom fog 
where I go back round in circles of
who I am to me and friends and kin

Loose ends fraying 
will always fray
until the body goes.
It's going now