I am softened at my core
Not being touched the right way
Long forgotten
Bruised by something that was supposed to be love
The taste of you is ripe in my mouth
Did your fingers leave this mark
Or is it pieces of us seeping out of me
Like sweet juice that used to drip from my fingertips
Nothing here could grow
Nothing good
Not even in the heat of the summer sun
When I am hungry for love
The orange, yellow dream of love
That could have been
Should have been
I have long buried our dead seeds in the earth
You can bite right into the center of a sweet peach
But I won’t let you turn me rotten
Everything dies, everything dies
Even the purple, blue ache of my heart