Good morning, my love I smile when I see you because I know it’s Valentine’s day
I’ve never gotten a build-a-bear she told me
But I’ve gotten enough balloons to float away,
three dozen pink and yellow roses because he finally remembered that I loved them,
so much chocolate to make my stomach sick for days
but he never built me a bear to remind me of him,
to help me sleep at night when he didn’t appear for the one-millionth time.
He never took me out to dinner, he always ordered in
that’s how I started gaining weight
…and every valentine’s day I tried loosing weight so we could go out
but it was always the same.
No movies or popcorn
no romantic walks or unplanned weekend vacations.
I try drowning in my bubble bath
…and the cuts on my arms are beginning to get noticed more and more every year
the gasoline was poured from the beginning of the door
on top of all the hand cut hearts leading to the bed in our peach painted bedroom.
Three hours late,
he walks into our home and looks at me with drunken eyes
pink lipstick stains on the collar with the stench of gasoline in his nose
lighter in my hand I blow him a kiss-
Good night, my love watch as I cry burned tears on Valentine
-Butta Love, the provocative verbalist