I reach for her love and am handed back anger.
I learn all the dance steps and what I should wear
But the Prom invitation never comes in the mail
And I’m scolded for lack of attendance.

My pen has been poisoned by her hateful words
It trembles and writhes in my shaking hand.
The ink blots and smudges are all shaped like teardrops
And the letters assemble to only spell pain
        ljm