Valentine.

Roses are blood red, shredded and eviscerated.


The one who recruits you as the sensible and straightforward contributor to society?
The one who organises your days with eroticism and longing?
The one who built her walls high but begs for rescue?
The one who educates you in areas you need to experience?
The one who judges that she cannot bear you or bear to be without you?
The one who holistically wants to live dangerously within a fantasy?
The one who explodes your horizons?

All jobs.
All lives.
All ladies.
All damned by association with my soul.