On Valentine’s Eve

Dearest, when I was young, I dreamt in dread,

Of you, not living, yet not dead.

A figure pale, with lips so still,

A hunger pressed beneath your will.

Your hair fell long like strands of night,

Your eyes askew, devoid of light.

No breath betrayed the soul you lacked,

No mirror ever gave you back.

You moved through halls no man could bear,

A Nosferatu in midnight air.

They said disease had made you weak,

But death forgets the one it seeks.

And when you rose, the world stood wide,

Yet still I waited, cold inside.

I kept my vow through bitter years,

While silence gnawed through all my fears.

Then came the night, your final stage,

Preserved by time, untouched by age.

On Valentine’s, you sought me out,

And poured my heart like wine poured out.

Your smile was sharp, your fingers thin,

No trace remained of what had been.

Your voice, once warm, now carved in stone,

A hymn that chilled me to the bone.

Three winters more, each one more pale,

Left only frost along your trail.

The snow would fall, then melt away,

As memory thinned with each decay.

The girl I was now walks no more,

She vanished through an unseen door.

What stands in place, no doctor knows,

My skin stays cool, my pulse stays slow.

You were the wound I could not see,

And now that wound has come to be.

No longer yours, yet not quite free,

I wake where none should follow me.

Reviews

[Michael Sun Bear]

Milena, you are truly the master of gothic. I find this poem so very well written but only slightly less dark than some of your other work. Your writing has made me so very curious about the real you. Are you obsessing with the dark, the supernatural, with death, with weird love? Are you perhaps assembling a full book of poems all dealing with dark, gothic themes? Are you really happy go lucky?
Who are you, Milena?

[Milena Grubor]

Thank you! I'm just someone who draws inspiration from the dark corners of my mind and melts it into words. I've always been interested in the supernatural, so I use it as a metaphor for a lot of the bad things I've been through. It took me years to finally be satisfied and find my writing style, especially considering that this is not my native language. If you want to understand what inspires me check out "In love with the darkness" song by Xandria.

[Dave W.]

This was really good, I feel this so much. Life has a way of molding us, my prayer is let some of me still exist in all the tearing away and stripping down. Life is a gift that sometimes hurts, that pains the heart, that wears for worse, this course you run, the end unseen, awake from nights, bitter dream.

[Milena Grubor]

Thanks, Dave. Sometimes to let go of something, you need to melt those feelings into the words. And it helps, it always does.

[Dave W.]

That is so true, I think its a great way to turn alot of emotional pain into something that will do good. It's always nice to know you are not alone and when you read a poem that speaks to your pain it is meaningful. I suppose this is how I make sense of life and the evil that happens.

[Milena Grubor]

That is one thing that keeps us all off the edge in this mad world.