Valentine's Day

The cold air that glides through the black net curtains,

Ruffles the calender pages,

As if to taunt me about the blood-red letter day,

February fourteenth, Saint Valentine watches me spitefully from a ruthless heaven,

The saint who has cursed me all my life,

So I am forced to spend the day alone,

Year after year,

Sprawled across the black silk sheets,

Body racked with the sobs I loathe so much,

In this hell with the lockable door,

In a hotel room that's too hot, like hell,

The window is clouded with february fog,

And open to soothe the fiery heat,

I don't move a muscle for most of the day,

Scarcely breathing,

Afraid to go out lest I see the paired-off people,

I'll be reminded of what could have been,

If I'd put you before my own views and principles,

Conformed and let you shape my heart and soul in your likeness,

Sacrifice my mind and independence to you,

No,

I couldn't,

I am who I am,

And who I am is lonesome and loathing,

Heartless and heart-felt,

Emotionless and emotional,

Bloody wrists, clasped hands over mangled chest, broken heart encased in its coffin,

Here I die hateful on the day of love,

The love I can never feel

 

The End

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