Puppeteer Princess,

Your words stole the flavor from my dinner plate.
My favorite meal became crushed tablets and stale cigarettes.
You were no longer the high I chased.
Love in the Northwest eludes me.

Our queen-sized bed soon became a graveyard of expectations.
It's funny, you used those acrylic nails to carve my name into a headstone
but you could never bring yourself to write something meaningful like,
"Forever Loved."
I've always been nothing less than a possession.
Do you remember when I left,
you told me that you would place me in a box
next to all of your forgotten lovers?
You seem to trespass grief.

You had always tried to paint me in shades
that were too dark for either of us to see.
Despite how much I could ever bleed,
this monochrome love was too ugly
for you to ever need.

Winter sank its fangs
into our vacant home.
My estranged lover, 
where will you ever go?

Sincerely,
Your Graveyard Valentine