← Previous Post: | Next Post:

 

Valentine’s Day Poem



Valentine's Day: Jordan Peterson Interview at 9:45

It's intolerable to be the beau of the broken,
The dearly beloved to whom their woe is spoken.

Yet how in hell did that start?
When did I become Miss Lonelyheart?
I'll tell you what I'd really like:
Let's have you think of me as Shrike.
Cynical, cold, and all-obscene,
Indifferent to pain and just plain mean.
Because then you'll all go far away.
You won't press up against me in a panic and say
'Save me from the fact of being me.'

I haven't any shields! Can't you see?
Can't you see what it betokens?
What a murderous, nasty love you've woken.
Margaret Soltan, February 14, 2020 1:37AM
Posted in: poem

Trackback URL for this post:
https://www.margaretsoltan.com/wp-trackback.php?p=63299

Comment on this Entry

Latest UD posts at IHE

Archives

Categories