How do you forget something so traumatic?
Something so traumatic God doesn’t even approve of it.
It wasn’t the way how he whispered sin,
Nor how he walked like an overdose there within.
It wasn’t how she liked 3am bourbons and October eves,
But maybe the mouth-watering preambles which he can only give.
Maybe it was how his smile spelled trouble with a promise.
Where bruises served as love letter in every inch of her skin.
Maybe it was the way how she wears pain like the grandest of diamonds.
How lethal was he yet she would still want him to be the genesis pawn.
Maybe it wasn’t the way how she belonged to everyone yet she belonged to none,
It was how she couldn’t find him in every being she’s been with everytime she run.
From the sketches and lines in Tenerife form, crossed and traced to his bones,
To religion and lies you feed in her electric soul.
And to that seemingly want and thirst for flesh,
To that guns and inducing pills which he succumbed not less.
It was the never ending charade of blues and reds and harlots and guests,
To alphabets and lies which he fabricates best.
Spilled sunsets in wrists and fountains of not so innocent tears,
A perfect visage of a loud image which nobody could hear.