Each key, pressed down with a swift movement. The beads of sweat that form on my hairline. Music floating through the still air, tender remains of what was loved. What still loves. His voice, telling me people will love my music, because it emerges from my heart and my heart is beautiful. Stupid boy, he is the only beauty filled heart here. On that day i will ask him to be my valentine. I know his answer, the answer that will break my heart. But its okay. My heart has been broken before. And i have broken hearts before. I should have sent the same goodnight, and i never would have lost my beloved goodmorning. I miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you but you wont miss me back. I write this for you, because i cant express my hatred for myself stemming from what i did you you.
I love you, Valentine.
