What it is not

Alexa hid behind the

Restroom door during lunch break

And cried. An impish man

Glowed inside the phone she clutched

Close to her chest.

I saw the messages,

Thinly veiled threats

Meant to be read like love letters.

Then the cuts, the hospital sheet

and a pair of eyes

that seemed to say, ‘leave me if you can.’

We were 10,

but somehow old enough

To know

What Love should

Not look like.