February 14

February 14

How pleasant is nothing
and  nothing is pleasant

To wish is to love.
And to Love:

I can only tell ...
What my hearts burnt fury speaks
O a white dove gentle brings messages of love.
Then I send you a vulture of rabid
feasting
feasting that is mortal's distaste
That of corpses abandoned and left
to waste
and should these letters reach you
I highly doubt
They'll likely cross Hell's doors
and heaven's gates then to reach
your stubborn voice.
what good are sounds what good are
words that leave these lips
for they go to waves of wind
unheard by any

Love, what use am I to you?
What use would dirt be to a king?
Should you chose to ignore me
I would turn my tears to storm
and drive down to overflowing dams
To ruin your crops, murder your towns,
and destroy your kingdom.
As muddy waters tend to often do.

Love, you spineless child
spoiled by all

Spoiled fruit are bitter, brown
disgusting to taste
as the hard surface turns
to mush plastic
a smell repulses even rats

You have yet to face me.
do my insults scare.
do you avoid the conflict of those
that cease to believe.
do you avoid my fire's gaze.
Love, You Coward!
Does my lack of desires
disarm you?
Can you look me in the eyes
and tell me I am not unloved?
Why do you not speak.

O remember of your whisper
the secret hush you spoke to
my heart.
A heart once sweet and pure.
now barren and abused.
What use do I have of it?

When I spoke into his eyes
I sighed every woman's sigh.
how my palms made tears
and my face stood ablaze
of a stove's burning grill.

I am no fool.
I am no child.
Yet you have forsaken me
and my truly mistaken trust
falls, shatters to the floor.

Why did I keep onward?
Believing to trust you again.
and then the third and the
forth, what of the fifth? 

should the seventh time please you?
you force it of my my heart to shatter
till just dust remained
no, not even dust.
Would dust have a value?

An annoyance that hides
under the bed.

I am nothing.

So speak to me and tell

me I was wrong.
And that I am not lost yet.

give me your lover's speech
as of not It does not fit

better yet the dead's speech

dead for they do not feel

and their hearts don't speak

they long ago stopped searching

for the warmth of life

and should my lips reach again

and feel nothing

will you continue to ignore me?

how a flower in the city grows

to be stepped on and trampled

my heart grows weary and weak

does death know

of my shaken soul

and god ridden heart

Love, you do not want me?

The time we spent was pleasant

but not all fulfilling

how sad and true I am

alone

But nothing is neither happy nor sad

nothing is calming and empty

a heart unruined by love