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My Valentine
Where were you when I was carving out the foundation of love, my hands calloused over, my back ached from labor, sweat residing on my brow? Your help non-existent, your offer of labor not offered.
What depths were you willing to travel to secure our love? Could you hold the breath of love at such great levels or would you simply exhale upon first sign of troubled waters? No matter the depth, no matter the pressure that constrains and crushes, within these arms you were protected.
What sacrifices were you willing to endure? What suffering were you willing to tolerate to solidify our love? How much pain in the name of love have you sustained? I’ve bled copious amounts of time, tears and with wounds freshly packed with salt, I shall withstand more for you, for us.
My love, my sweet dear heart.
I envisioned our future, our lives intertwined by destiny and fate. Did you dream of this as well or had your design of us been flawed, distorted and blurred from the onset?
Alas, Missouri has left this man less than impressed with my heart out of alignment.
Missouri’s adopted son broken, unfixable.
I loved in Missouri.
I died in Missouri.
And now I am alone, alone as anyone can be in Missouri
Without you
