If my Valentine you won't be,
I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed.
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
    So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
    You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovèd as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
“Fair, kind, and true” is all my argument,
“Fair, kind, and true” varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
    Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
    Which three till now never kept seat in one.

Twirling my spoon in the depths of caffeine,
I yawn and stare across the dim-lit shop.
The silky bitterness wafts in the air,
As a sleepy bird outside decides to mope.

An ordinary day it was, like the past,
Nothing unusual, nothing wavered from the start.
I gulped the inky brew in a frenzy to leave,
Staring over my mug, my heart skipped a beat.

Long jagged scars ran down his face,
A disgrace in the eyes of visual allure.
Features veiled with tribulation,
His kaleidoscopic orbs bled loneliness.

Unavoidable gasps rang all around,
People parting like panicked doves,
Perhaps an acquaintance of shadow?
He glided in with a crown of frost.

My heart rang like a failed cardiogram,
As I stated at the nameless stranger in front,
Features, once chiseled and envied,
Now mirrored a fate of broken glass.

Stripped of his appearance, an outcast by society,
My heart longed to read the pages of his destruction,
Love was no longer a cliché to me,
Thoughts leading back to this moment.

Last night his eyes asked me
How it feels in here, inside me
I bit my lip, how do I answer,
The same way he has asked?
Sending silent waves through
this darkness?

Light scares me away
So I rest in his custody all day
While his palms lightly cover
my eyes as he closes his
Maybe that is why
Even orange days seem like blue nights

And when the true night falls,
Even the early dusk is a cold black midnight.
I've never felt cold when he holds me.

The cinematography, the imagery,
Visualizations, animation,
Those slow takes as the rain falls over the window
Behind which a girl rests her head
Looking out with dreamy eyes
Eyes, holding watery stories of a beautiful past

The door slams shut and
Out she comes
With winged feet and summer skin
Living in her head, she walks down by
Looks up above and smiles at the sky
She closes her eyes and the camera it shoots
How the sunshine falls on her eyelashes
Down, a perfect zoom in
Onto her lips hazed with tiny particles of light air

He blindfolds her eyes
Walks her gently all the way
The coldness increases and the noise reduces
More
He takes his hands off her eyes
And up she stares
with lips apart and stunned feet
At the gazillion stars chilled and silver
Against a black night
He smiles
covering her up from behind
with warm hands.

The rest of the night.