She

[moot]

She

She was the reason
for my jealous ways.
She was the reason
for my awestruck gaze.

In the end that all faded
Away.
Far from anything
memorable.

Only separable.

Maybe it was just a first?
Until it became a Second,
Third,
Fourth. *Not too sure what is intended here. A first, second, a third of....? *

Is it still considered pain
when hurt is everyday?

What draws the dagger line
of a staggered mind,
Never again the same
after
the oxygen left my brain.

What I could have been.
What I should have been.
Excuses are all I'm left with
inside this scarred mind She left Me with.

Well, I thought this piece to be visceral. Perhaps some of it could be better worded as I found the following a bit conmfusing:

"Maybe it was just a first?

Until it became a Second,
Third,
Fourth".

I thought this piece could work as a song. The grunge kind. Good choice of words. It is creative and as such I thought that this made the poem flow. I do not think I would change a lot.