Love Poem: Second Cut Etches Deeper

Second Cut Etches Deeper

I met and conversed 
with a rather
confusing stranger
He had found his way
to the bottom of
a neat vodka bottle
he said he wanted to forget
needed to forget
that he loved her
but she wasn't for that
No, she bore her soul
for another 
with him it was just
magic
it was a make believe concert
that he had first row seats to
and she was the star of the show
beautiful, wicked eyes
that made a man question
the room temperature
curves that proved that
indeed God is a man
one with ample time
and strong hands
she had a spirit of a bird
in every sense
a bird he tried to tame
but she lived
in the moment and for
the bottle
boys were a bonus
each time he touched her
it was along traces 
of a world of hands
that had been before
she was numb, cold
and touching her
confused her
she could never tell
if it is the man 
she had trusted innocently
or if it was many other
she had felt but
not really felt
but in fact sensed
sensed to forget him
the weight of him
above the helpless little girl
that knew daddy wanted to play
a game of
"who can strip faster"
and that she had to sit
quietly and not let anyone
in on their game
that they played in the dark
but he was trying to find her
trying to open her eyes
to life, and for once
take out the blazed
window panes
until he concluded 
she might be harboring
a healing heart
So one day in hope
to make her feel
his touch
and only his
He gazed into her soul
and told her 
first cut may be the deepest
but it gets better
in her mind though
the person who invented 
that conspiracy
was a damn fool
because they neglected
to mention that
the second cut does not only etch 
deeper beneath you
but it takes all you have
leaves you hazy memories
and a dizzy conception of life
she needed a hero
with a strengthened halo