my love is poisoning me,
infecting me through another love
I did not ask for or want.
he is a snake, and we are both apples --
will he toss me for the other?

I tried to hide it but I had a soft spot,
brown, slightly fermenting.
a place where I could become weak once pressed,
and pushed to a place not my own,
a darker place where I was a different kind of apple.

he found that spot --
because I told him --
and he doesn't look at me the same way.
I want to speak to him,
remind him,
now you know all of me, every single part! more than my brothers and sisters do.
you should rejoice!
but he looks away with sad eyes.
he can't see me without seeing the spot;
he can't see the spot without wincing in pain,
wincing in fear.

he doesn't want me anymore.
he wants that shinier, wiser apple
all pure and golden
up on that high shelf.
with her he can grab the best,
pretend that all apples are perfect and gleaming.
lick her juicy flesh,
become one.

so, with my heart at my feet
I watch him slither away in the darkness
leaving me to rot alone
on my eternal shelf.
he winds his tail around her,
she blushes with a pure happiness I never could achieve.
could I be happy for them in some small way?
I really want to.
please?