I guess that’s just how it is between us as Valentine’s
came and went.
Ready were my flowers in one hand, the sweets wrapped in
a handsome gold,
your favorite brand of cut-out stars in the style of our
names, the sticky notes and pictures of our blissful days, all called for at
the back of my car’s trunk.
Sweating profusely, my hands were, as I held the roses,
about to knock on your door.
You see, I never got to tell you; didn’t want to go all
cliché, even. But you loved this kind of thing anyway, so there I was, hand
raised, heart pounding.
I knocked. Once. Twice.
There were scuffles and a thud from the other side of the
door - were you alright?
Were your parents hurting you again?
Were your parents hurting you again?
Perhaps I came at the wrong hour, or maybe I should have
just broken the door down and saved you from whatever was happening.
I heard shouting, my engine revving, I ran to turn it off
and threw the flowers at the back.
I was on the front porch when the door suddenly opened
and a man walked out stoutly and smirked at me, pushing me aside.
I saw you inside, he left the door open,
In tears again, on a beautiful night like this.
I asked you to change, to come with me.
So you did.
I carried you to my car and we drove off into the night.
Words not needed, just silence as I showed you the place
I promised nights ago.
I had a speech ready, but all I could do was take you in
my arms and whisper, “You’re beautiful. I love you”, like the fool I am.
***
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| Source: http://heres-to-our-feelings.tumblr.com/post/68434024436 |
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This entry for Fiction is written by DarkSilence.
