The Cut

I almost learned to forget you; your hands, like ghosts landing upon the landscape of my body. Your kisses, like bombs that when thrown were flung directly in between my thighs. Your words, like hope, Like home. I was learning to store it away, like learning to ignore the wind. But I opened up a vein again. I thought I'd find you there. And what I found were memories, like mistakes, like scars that just refuse to fade.