"to feb. 14: i hate you"

where too much too soon
meets too little too late
kisses are stolen from absent virgin lips
trapped, caught up, in over my head,
i find
all-too familiar eyes break down haphazard castles
i, without thinking, constructed
covering one bitter mistake
with one that tastes forbiddenly sweet
i know now what i must do
but what heartache will flood in
and who, pray tell, will drown with it?
i, seemingly infected to the core with selfishness
that will drive me to reduce this place to ruins,
still have the best intentions,
and i brace myself for the coming storm.