The blood Stark red against the snow
Tells a story of battle
Or slaughter.
No bodies or limbs
No gore or anything
Just blood and disturbed snow.
Blue cold clashing with warm sunset.

My heart is the still full box
Of cookies left on the counter
In the office kitchen with the
Sticky note on it that says
"Please help yourself"

But no one does and they
Grow stale.
People turn their noses up
At the idea of taking a cookie
Thinking to themselves
"There's a reason no one is eating those"

Dark eyes compel me to act
Rash without fact and tact.

Pulse and life quicken within
That memory of sin and gin

And then death
Because end
Is absolute.

A good night’s sleep
Alongside a loved other
Unmarred by expectations
Unmolested by human minds
Moonlight and soft breath
Dreams and thoughts
Soft whir of a fan
Drawn down
Until…

The soaring highs ring hollow
Through this speaker
But the lows are richly decadent.

Lately this speaker has preferred lows
The highs just don’t persist like they do
From other speakers.

Perhaps it’s easier to produce those highs
With a matched stereo second speaker
Where one falters, the other supports.

And isn’t it just this speaker’s luck
To have its matched stereo second spoken for
Sounds and lives are just peaks and troughs.

This time of year always hits me
Like a stone in the gut
All the smiling happy faces and stories
Of romantic fluff

And in those lowest moments
I swear I can see
The bottom of that hole, rising
Rising up to swallow

I’ve given my all to this
Ridiculous life
This constant battle against strife
And my bones will fall

Fret not for the coming of day
I pretend to say
As if the night had a loose grip
The darkness would let slip…

To all those who scoff at Valentine’s Day
For being overly materialistic
I would like to say go **** yourself.
I’d love to have a companion to spend money on
To shower with materials and love.
I don’t need to hear you flex your
Romantic privilege.