Traces

I. Silver painted words taste like old memories of happiness you thought you lost in the crash,

and the butterflies you thought got loose when you scraped at your stomach still tickle at your spine

making you choke up a smile from your rose painted cheeks.

A smile only your father saw.

II. His smile is playing, screaming nothing but words of lies.

The thunderstorm he formed strikes at your feet and you can't get close enough.

Not even close enough to see his lipstick stained lips outline his fatal words.

The thunder rings your ears, robbing you of your hearing and there,

he has found his perfect hiding spot.

III. Bruised stained chests pressed against each other and chewed up kisses that left your lips numb.

Your skin has run pale from his grasps and goosebumps create mountains along your legs, from your cold exposed skin.

You reach for the blanket you both were under, but he's gone.

IV. Waves of confusion coming in like a tsunami and old pieces of rock that should have been buried,

wash ashore into your cracked hands.

The sand castle you thought you built to withstand his battles has lost its defense,

towering down at your frozen feet with regret. Silly girl. He built you only to destroy you.

V. He kisses you with silent pecks that are sculpted into an army of tasteless love that create war one your bones, making you frail.

He puts you to sleep with serene strokes to settle your pulse, but only to be with another woman.

And as your lullaby, he puts a bandana over your mouth and nose that's drenched in rubbing alcohol.

Maybe you spent more trying to fix his hole punched heart with your pieces that you didn't realize you were not complete anymore.

And by the time you realized, he was gone with the stitched up pieces of your heart. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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