i met the one, he didn't.

the contour of my thoughts lie
jagged and bloodied
a heart misfit, never being able to fit

the contour of my tears
round and edged,
rolling of my cheek and leaving lines of pain across

the contour of my thighs
once unknown to all
became our dark secret, my source of guilt

the contour of my skin
no longer smooth from the layers
and layers that try so hard to heal
myself from me

and myself from me, between the contour lines i hide.

grey stones litter the ground of this desolate forest,
this hollow wind that blows through bare trees echo
your name
that of life i missed dearly, very much i do
and the horrors it witnessed, praying never to happen
again
that, i do not miss.
this dark, damp forest mud faintly smells of you,
faintly, fearfully the traces of tears and blood mingled
together.
of this graveyard was an experiment ground;
of chemistry and chemical warfare,
and a lover's playground, a breakup tune.
do you hear the carousel's tinkling music
from afar?
i will search for the faintly, floating sadness
for a way i can forget you.