Valentine's Day

To her, I was a vessel

For a flow of complaints,

An ongoing soap opera of familiarity.


To me, she was a gaudy gem,

Ersatz sapphire, an imitative spark

In the dilettante’s eye.


She became the piercing shrill

Of a 4 A.M. alarm,

An ambient assault.


I wanted to halt it, but couldn’t

Because, like a solider

Hauled by ardor,

I had a sense of duty.


I retreated beneath a bunker

Of paperwork and other infatuations,

But the shrill still gongs my ear.

It still snares me.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741