Once she was sweet, and liked you.
And laughed at your jokes. It was like you were a team.
Now she’s grounded for whatever.
And you’re in your room feeling sad and ashamed, scratches on your hands from confiscating her mobile over a “fuck you” and a couple other expressions, and all the keys that fit in your pockets because she threatened suicide. And her mobile phone.
And she’s in her room, unlocked door closed, bruises on her arms from the wrestling, hating you.
This too shall pass, maybe.