It stung to my
core, a bite so deep
it pierced my skin. You opened
me up for dessert and left me out to
dry, to sit, in
the sun,
to turn.
Seedless,
discolored,
lifeless,
Sunburnt.
Don’t
cover me
in
cinnamon
because you want more bites,
the only thing I have left is my
stem and my sour
taste of light.
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 2:26 PM UTC
It stung to my
core, a bite so deep
it pierced my skin. You opened
me up for dessert and left me out to
dry, to sit, in
the sun,
to turn.
Seedless,
discolored,
lifeless,
Sunburnt.
Don’t
cover me
in
cinnamon
because you want more bites,
the only thing I have left is my
stem and my sour
taste of light.