A rotten apple spoils the bunch
Is that true?
Am I a rotten apple to you?
I feel like I am
Too soft and too sweet
With stiff skin and fragile innards
Don't press too hard
I'll snap
And then you'll have my blood
Caught in your cuticles
And underneath your fingernails
Am I spoiling the rest of you?
While I wait to be accepted
Am I ruining your chances?
I can feel the flies buzzing against my skin
Underneath it
I can feel them burrowing inside of me
Like a tiny army of invaders
Am I your rotten apple?
Will I be left to become soil
Without ever having served a purpose?