A bowl of seeds in front of me remind me of you-

I had to cut through thick skin and peel it away just to get at the good stuff.

It didn't stop there though-

I had to pick and probe, inspect and search for remnants of the thick skin so when I sink my teeth into the fruit, I wouldn't find myself with a bitter aftertaste.

Red stains my hands and counter tops, just trying to coax the sweetest part of you out.

A bowl of seeds in front of me reminds me of you-

The seeds are sweet yet soon gone, and epehemeral sweetness doesn't mask the bitterness of skin I couldn't get past, skin I couldn't peel away no matter what.