As February nears, I begin to fear,
Of love never coming, never surfacing.
My heart was still healing when we met,
Hoping to never forget
the moments we shared on the night of our affair.
I was not prepared for such feelings of lust,
My senses gone at dusk.

But, now, it's so much more.

I know.

I've loved before.

Before I settled for every instinct.
The distinct feeling of being wanted,
Ending the hunt to find that person
You've spent years dreaming about.
Dreaming of his endearing smile,
Hoping he'd stick around for more than just a little while.

But he won't.

They never do.

Leaving me feeling like Frankenstein,

Now I wonder,

Will I ever get my Valentine?