'Cigarettes And Valentines' Poem by Scout Jean

Everything I write is for him.
Evreything he wrote
was for her.
and I think thats what shoots me.
For I'd kill,
in the sickest way,
to be her.

I didn't realize I fell in love.
That is until
the night he left.
He mocked my pain by
ignorance.
Chatting about pretty girls.

Not only do the cats run away from dogs.
But does love run away from me.
Or is it I that runs away from love?
Won't matter.
He was nothing of my interest.
Nothing I looked for in appearance.
But everything in
soul,
idea,
and mind.

I'll hate him for that.

I wish I could see him again.
But if I'd spent my life wishing
I'd never met him.


'I'm lonely.' he said.
And at my young age I didn't understand

I do now.


My friend.
My dearest friends,
I do not trust now.
For he gave me another meaning of 'friend.'
The boy who offers me
his heart.
I look at it
and turn.
For I've given mine to him
and got a cigarette in return.

His eyes.
His lost,
eternal,
eyes.
Were there.
And I'll imagine his face
in a crowd.
and my heart will sink in disappointment.


I believe I'm frustrated
from waiting.
I know he'll come for me.
My blue prince.
But I wait.
For it is all i can do.