In silence she sits
trying to forget his face.
The face that made her heart leap
her eyes glow
and her breath uneven.
The face that tore her insides out,
whirled them around.
Whose lips lied and cheated
and stole her innocence.
That face,
that face engraved in her mind
like words etched in a tombstone.
Permanent.
Evidence still lingers.
And she tries to forget.
But forget?
As she tries to flush away the memories,
they only come flooding back.
The potent smell of his cologne.
The dent left in the sheets
where his body used to lie.
The forgotten shirt crumpled on the closet floor.
Hours have passed
but the slam of the door still rings in her ears.
She threw him out.
She ended it.
She.
Pictures, mementos, shapes of his affection,
shattered on the floor.
Her bare foot presses upon a shard of glass.
She winces in pain.
This pain she will not forget.