Maybe we can go back
Try undoing the past
Where is the thrill of
Anticipation?

In the last grade of
Elementary
They allowed us
To sign our
Virginal names in
Blueorblack ink
I was ten, I
Had already written
My script then
I did it in
Permanent pen

There was no time to erase

Mother wasn't excitable
some days, she was
She tore up my script
My script after script
Every idea
To her
Just ****
And I'd begin
Again in pen