purge

 the love notes are sickly sweet
I have the urge to spew bile
meaningless scrawlings—
meant for another
I recoil and cringe at the words
it's a valentine, dressed in lace
the lace is crumbling and dusty
playful jokes and childish banter
make it seem like a game, a prank
it ends with one pitiful request:
will you be mine for always?