Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 3
She peeled her oranges today,
actually for years,
but this isn’t about oranges.

She holds things together,
piece by piece, peel by peel,
grown used to her hands
and the strength they reveal,
but this isn’t about oranges.

It feels strange when another
reaches out, offers to peel,
to see past the layers,
the parts that are real,
but this isn’t about oranges.

She learns self-reliance,
but maybe it’s true,
that letting someone help
doesn’t make her less, but new,
and again, this isn’t about oranges.

So here’s to the balance,
to peeling her own,
yet knowing it’s okay
not to do it alone.

Because, in the end,
this isn’t just about oranges.
Sandy Macacua
Written by
Sandy Macacua  31/F/Philippines
(31/F/Philippines)   
120
   ImosyrroS and Sin
Please log in to view and add comments on poems