Done..

Valentines Day Curse

Done

Valentine’s Day doesn’t hurt anymore.
It just confirms things.

2022 —
You wrecked my Jeep
and then wrecked the truth,
said it was stolen
like accountability was optional.
I learned that night
damage isn’t always metal and glass.

2023 —
Jail bars instead of flowers.
I memorized inmate numbers
instead of love notes.

2024 —
You told me to get ready.
I did.
You never showed.
Slot machines got your attention
while I got the silence.

2025 —
No power in my house.
No peace in my heart.
Arguing in borrowed space
because you couldn’t provide
stability
or decency.

2026 —
Locked up again.
Same charges.
Same pattern.

Different me.

Because this year
I’m not shocked.
I’m not waiting.
I’m not defending you
to myself.

Your track record
isn’t my burden anymore.

February can keep its roses.
You can keep your excuses.

I’m done mistaking
consistency in chaos
for loyalty.

And I’m done
calling this love.