(c) 2016
When we met, we reached for love
but found instead a folie á deux.
I said, “Love is painful”—
so you proved it.
I said, “Daddy never saw the real me”—
You tore up my poems
without reading them.
You said, “You’re fat.”—
I
ate more.
You said, “Mothers are cruel.”—
I hit your knees with an iron pipe.
You said, “Life is lonely.”
I left.
I found it gratifying,
and when I ran into you years later
you said you missed it too.
