The placid moon limned my bruises,
with the vivid hues deliquesced in the hoax of my silver smeared peace,
But beneath these layers and laminas still,
Lies contused, my pain,
my chest a void that serves as a coffin, for my memories of you,
Though they still lay buried in shallow mire,
Your amity was afflicted and decayed with infidelity,
But my fault, my dear?
My fault was that I held onto,
Though the cost was my life..
Part 2 to come soon.. Follow for updates!