My valentina

It's just a poem

You left her in agony
The tension is building up
Never have you felt so narcissistic
She didn't deserve the scar.

Your soul cold as solid ice
Your every touch hell like
But she embraced the darkness
Cause she had faith in her candles.

She rubbed herself against your stones
You failed to address her wounds
You were too paranoid to think straight
Almost as if you were brain dead.

How dark can I be?
To make something so elegant weep
She cherished you for what you were
But your ego just made her suffer.

Reviews

[Katsura]

Powerful piece about how we can hurt those we love without realizing it. One question I am left with is whether the "you" refered to in the poem is the writer or the writer's opponent in love (i.e. a rival suitor). Clarifying this small confusion would really bring the poem to the next level.