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Kelly Weaver Feb 2017
Oh, sacred Cupid
Stick me with your arrow and bring me to my feet
My knees have gotten so very weak and tired
Turn my sobs to kisses then back to sobs once more
And allow myself to forget my troubles even for a moment.
Allow love to take its fingers and lock them into mine
Only to break each and every finger just one more time
Touch my skin and allow it to erode and decay
Either finish me off entirely or take your love away

*I'd rather die than live another day
SøułSurvivør Feb 2016

like a cygnet
i await the
lilly strewn liquid
of your love
where i can lap my
feet luxuriously
in your


like a patch of soil
i await your root and seed
harrowed by your hands
turned under by your
undulating plows


like an old shoe
i wait to cradle your heel
in comfort, and give you
the freedom to


like these things
i am not
but like a
i await your
cocoon of carelessly
crumpled sheets
to preform my
into the beautiful
Blue Mountain Swallowtail
you always knew

i could be*

(C) 2/6/2016
this is a poem
dedicated to
my true love
Valentine's Day

a Blue Mountain Swallowtail is
indigenous to Australia
It is very lovely

Cat Fiske Apr 2015
you were already 16,
but I was finally turning 15,

you knew I didn't celebrate my birthday,
but you never ask why.

I had a birthday that coexisted around the time,
of valentines.
We we're unable to see each other the week on valentines,
but the week after on my birthday we could.

you faced timed me,
all week,
while working on my gift,
but never showed me your hands,
so I never saw the present.

finally it was my horrible birthday,
a day full of crying at home,
but finally I was here at your house to hand you,
my pay check,
because I really wanted you to get your permit.
I knew how much you wanted it.
so I had 60$ for you.

you came out,
saw me and picked me up and kissed me,
hugged me like a distant relative who was way to friendly would,
and like them,
we both acted in not wanting to let go,

We went inside your house,
and sat on your tiny brown couch,
and your mom was so happy to take pictures,
and I gave you my gift,

you opened it,
and you almost cried,
and I did see the tear in the corner of your eye,
then you left like the sun leaves the day to fetch mine,

your mom got to talk to me,
and was so very happy,
she even made me a cake,
like one you would of seen at a wedding,
I couldn't of said thanks enough.

you came back,
and you gave me a tiny little box,
and a note,

you opened the box first,
and told me to read the note while he put my gift on me,

my note said,
"baby you are my valentine,
and violets and roses combined,
will never be a more beautiful design.

Speaking of designing,
I made you this necklace and its shining,
just like your eyes,

but I cant rhyme,
so I hope you know this was more then for,
being my valentine one special day of the year,
its for everyday,
even your birthday,
so enjoy it more.

the necklace maker"

and everytime,
I wore it,
I was happy,
because I thought of him,

5: Talk about the best birthday you have had.
Phoolmatee Dubay Feb 2015
I turned 47
But I still feel the same
But look a lot different
From when I was 25

A valentine birthday meant more to celebrate
You would think?
But I realized others share this day
As something special too
So it wasn't my day only
But everyone else's
Sydney Ann Feb 2015
My new favorite letter is M
Because it's your letter
I'll add in A,
Maybe even J
because those are yours too
I love them
They remind me of you
I love you
Sorry they pressure you
To  ask to be my Valentine
I wish you had said yes
So I could hear it from your lips
But you didn't,
your discomfort shows
that this matters to you.
I Think.
Good enough for me.
Sydney Ann Feb 2015
So it's Valentines day.
I'm alone,
but I'm in love again.
                                    The chemicals in my brain are firing pleasure sensors
                                     or whatever that science **** says.
                                      It bothers me that I live a lie no matter what truth I embrace
but whatever

I'm in love with his smile
his laugh
how he and I know exactly what each other is thinking
telepathy is our ESP.
If he knew was me
he would know it was him
still is him
by the way

I'm in love with his poetry
his voice
Every new thing I learn
Is a starburst in my heart

I know I look like a stalker
the way I follow him
but seeing him is my sanity

I have to believe
he will love me one day
if I want to live
another day

— The End —