You have cut me up
and placed me beside other
shinier, redder apples.
you've given disapproving glares
and shaken your head,
arms akimbo.

You're trying to keep me in a box,
away from the "dangerous" world outside
but then you'd shake your fists
at my browning flesh
and putrid body.

I'm just an apple.
Why can't you see me for what i am?
I'm not the biggest
nor the juiciest.
I have yellow spots on my skin
and bruises on my flesh.

Why don't you love me?
Why can't you stop
comparing
and judging
and complaining?

You are my apple tree.
you made me.
Why can't you see
I'm trying
to be the best apple
that i can be?

It's not enough.
it's never enough.

I'm. Not enough.
and i never will be.