February Still Hurts
Paradise Campbell
February still hurts.
Not because of the roses,
or the cards.
February hurts because it remembers.
It remembers who loved too deeply.
Who forgave without the apology.
Who stayed for too long.
Who was promised forever and got handed sometimes instead.
February comes around every year without asking if you’ve healed yet.
The pink and red bold and in your face.
This poetry book lives in the space between longing and letting go.
Between missing someone and missing peace.
Between the love that was given and the love that should have been returned.
If February has ever felt heavier than it should, these pages were written with you in my mind.
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