Heart Day

Couples will walk along James Street North tomorrow night.

And I will wonder if I will ever be like that.

Like them.

Will someone ever

Love me?

Love me not?

Love me?

Love me not?

Love me?

I no longer pick the petals off daisies.

It's too cruel because there's never an answer that I like.

I pick over the thoughts in my mind and save the flowers.

I want someone to make cards for,

Heart shaped paper cut-outs,

Or something the shape of pineapples.

Fuzzy desires.

Myself, I wonder.

Will I ever get to that point?

Sip a cup of tea, and read a book instead.

Dream of lovers instead of having any.

Write versions of myself into romantic tales.

And think of you,

Wherever you are.

The you that I write into all of these songs, and have never met yet.