Horror poem: They Cut Off Valentine's Head

Romance may or may not be dead, depending on your point of view.

Photo by Thoa Ngo on Unsplash

Lovers can have sweet St. Valentine’s day poems. The 15th is for bitter things.

They Cut Off Valentine's Head

You gave me flowers,
But the petals curled overnight,
Their rose blush paled to the colour of a dirty stream,
Vestiges of life turned to parchment,
Too fast, unnatural.

When I woke, you were gone,
Bedsheets twisted,
Dents on each pillow, 
But the only scent was mine.

Uneaten chocolates on the living room table,
One wine glass empty,
The other untouched,
Somehow I missed you weren't drinking,
Your eyes pulled me in,
The world blurred,
And became too bright.

A line blazes through the air,
Hell's fury glinting from dust,
It's only the sun,
Only an inferno.

'Only the sun', like it's trivial,
Like it doesn't give us cancer,
And scorch mud flats,
Drain lakes,
Power storms,
Bring life and death,
And I remember being a child with a magnifying glass,
Burning leaves with only the sun,
And I cannot step into its light.

In the dark,
You left me,
You have left me,
You have left me with a curse,
A hunger beyond chocolates and flowers and cards and plush toys,
But hearts...
But beating, throbbing hearts...
Pulsing, pounding, gushing hearts...

They cut off Saint Valentine's head,
His blood sprayed, pumped, crashed free,
But he lives on in quivering hearts,
And you left,
And you left me with a thirst,
Only a living heart will quench.

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The end

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It’s been a pretty heavy week for me, and it seems for others I know too. I hope the weekend gives you time to regroup, rebuild, and come back reinforced for the next week.

Take care of yourselves.

Go be kind and spooky,

Mata

xoxo