My first fictional poem!

WHEN THE WOUND IS STILL SORE


I wore braces and the glasses too, oh yeah
I wore hipsters and no, not the black uns!
So people thought ‘am “plain Jane”…
But he saw someth’in different,
He called me Mandy Moore.

I knew ‘twas a lie but
I badly wanted a guy.
So I went along with what he said…
‘Twas just a trick to get what he wanted-
A last minute date to the prom.

We quickly made out-
Lest we loose each other.
So it never took us long
To reach second base.

Then we grew up
And grew out of love.

I cheated myself,
Like he knew I would…

Now, here you are-
Showing me how to do a shuffle.
Barely knowing, I can salsa too.
You tell me ‘am pretty (I know that myself)
And that you want to date me.

You call me every night and
Tempt me with Eden’s apples.
You tell me you will be there
To see me through everything-
Oh really?

You whisper sweet nothings,
Assuming you can woo me.
But now, ‘am a strong woman-
I won’t fall for that old trick.

I cheated myself,
Like you knew I would…

You deserve to know why I said “no”-
Baby, how can I date you when
The wound is still sore?