Valentines Vodka Poem by Not Long Left

seven years on,
and although she has gone,
Valentines day always casts
its line out into the murky pool of memories,
pulling out the one of her final gift.

Sure, we was young and the meaning of love
was no closer to reality to that
of the earth and the sun.

We had been stagnant for a while,
our bodies reppelling like
mismatched magnets,
been quite a time since we had smiled.

She arrived at my house
feeling cold inside and out.
Silence was the main meal,
during our unromantic dinner.

Even the candles were crying,
as I gave to her, her valetines gift,
Like a child who had already opened,
60 presents, she slowly unwrapped.

A cold kiss not on the lips
was her way of saying thanks.
Later as she was leaving,
she placed in my hands a
carrier bag and whispered
Happy valentines day before
stepping out into the cold.

Closed the door, and pulled
out a half drunk bottle of Vodka
from the bag she had gave me.

Two days later she dumped me,
the thoughtfull bitch had prepared me,
for having my heart broken
with her valentines gift.