Her eyes danced with
cornfield loneliness;
pain so deep
that blueberries and
puppies couldn't
touch it.
She tried to **** it with
***** and
****,
but that only
made it worse.

The solution came
simply,
like flipping a switch.
She just quit loving.
It was rough at first;
tough on the heart.
It hurt when she
saw dandelions and
felt velvet on her face.
It ached when she
smelled the sunrise and
kissed soft lips.
But with time she became
like a head of lettuce
or a marble.
Her eyes were
vacant;
reptilian and blank.