A Pursed Scream Poem by Random Poet

I alight and see your back
turned dutifully away.

Suspicion hangs in the moment
the whistle blows from the train
a loud shrill screech like
a burst of emotions in one
that seems too queer.

Perhaps an overbearing side
To the strings attached to it all
But never once had I planted
this thought into my innocent mind.

If I could just close the door back
to all those wicked willows -
their arms' strangled memories，
I would not be bothered by this
Eruption within me.

Because when you turn back,
I hear a pursed scream deep within,
that I was the blow
to my own heart that broke
the stone and touched it.
But it wasn't a gentle one.

Should I consider myself lucky,
to have regained it once again?
Or to have passed this curse on
to one as unfortunate as the one
I falsely gave my life to?