the apple tree sits
staring at me
watching my every move

her branches reach out to touch my flaxen hair
combing out the tangles with her withering limbs
her leaves form a braided wreath
with fragile pink blossoms embodying my innocence

her knots form a kind and gentle face
the corners of her mouth turning up to assure me of hope
her crevices are filled with love and life
my only friends. my only family.

"patience" she says
and so i wait. and so i watch
waiting the blessed day of forthcoming

"patience" she says
but I can't wait any longer
my crystal blue eyes are beginning to discolor and my hair is beginning to fall
time is running out

I break from her withered limbs
I break from her benevolent smile
I break from her hospitality and materialness that nursed me back to health
only to fall into a deep abyss of incompetence and insubordination

childish and juvenile acts that were not nursed by the fruit of eden.

I run back to her warm bark
begging for forgiveness
only to taste the now bitter apple.