I yearned for peace,
To silence the chaos of my mind.
Craved a quiet solace
Sought to close my heart
Until Fate wove
Our bonded twine.

Two wayward souls
On separate paths—
“Coincidentally” align.
This perfect pairing,
Our missing piece
A testament to
Divine Design.

We navigate this expanse
Unknown
For which only the boldest
Are inclined,
Of life’s tumultuous spectrum—
Erratic fluctuations, vacillating
From arduous to Sublime.

It takes an acute endurance,
Coupled with two spirits
In their prime
To overcome insurmountable
Obstacles
Which so often bend
The Strongest
Of
Stalwart
Spines.

And yet our love
Transcends all trials
And to you Alone,
I resign…
To the man who mends
My heart
I am yours, and you
Are Mine.
I vow to cherish you
Until my last breath,
Until the fabric of
Time
Unwinds.
To my Saving Grace,
My Singular Proclivity—
My
Everlasting
Valentine.

I fell asleep
on Valentine’s Day
I’m sorry
I didn’t write you
I was choosing a card
in my dreams,
sorry
I slept right through
Dreaming of a pen
to write
I woke the day after
too late to be my valentine
I sign
‘Your sleepy admirer’.

Yet I can't feel a solitary **** thing

I can still recall how my heart sped up so,
Yet the image of such surprises me.
Am I still capable of love? I don't know.
My eyes have been open so long, they can't see.

I've gone back and reread them,
Those words I wrote for you.
It was from this heart they did stem,
Yet to me now, it all seems untrue.

I remember that I remember loving you,
But in the years gone by my love has dried.
What would that I could choose to imbue
Another soul with what has since died.

But I can't remember how to love.
I can't be certain I can still love.

Valentine's Day, I'd sooner choke.
On sarcasm, on cynicism, on smoke,
Pollute my lungs with tragedy.
Let me not hear sickening words,
Regurgitated love, deadened eyes,
Empty promises, reused lines.

A worldwide joke
That we are all in on
We all laugh along
Year after ****** year.
And you weep when love ends,
Falling away so soon.
As if the day
Would have fixed your issues

roses aren’t always red,
violets aren’t actually blue;
we’ve unfortunately been lied to —
the expression isn’t as easy as rhyming ‘I love you.’