It arrived like a love letter
or an innocuous request
for interviews about the next prom
or help with an essay.
The digital chime announced the Trojan horse
that bore the weaponry of this personal war,
The weapons more powerful than
bombs laden with fleshets,
the ammunition merely words.
The next time you feel the need to
unleash your anathemas on me,
perhaps check your facts.
Perhaps check to see
if you know anything at all.
Do not tell me that I could have
made a difference as you
attack like a blood-sucking leech
feeding on all of our pain.
I have known pain.
Your words are not capable
of hurting me.
Have a nice day, pal.
Word Play 