Decayed

by Kelly Sweeney

I spot the core of an apple,
Laid upon the kitchen floor.
Seeds gouged from their hollow home,
Rebirth left in dismay.

The peels fall to their doom,
Pulp trembling in shaking hands,
As a fly sits atop,
Draining blood from the orange.

 Now the counter is stained red,
Seeds soaking into marble,
Remnants flung far away,
As the pomegranate split open. 

The bitter taste of bile comes seeping out,
Rotten fruit spills to the ground,
Berries burst like bruised flesh,
And spoiled juice paints my nails.

Now I’m an aching corpse,
And seedless like the apple,
Horror gnaws a home in my chest,
Why does fruit feel like I’ve drowned?

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Kelly Sweeney is a 24-year-old girl from New Jersey who loves to read and write. She can be found in the mountains, secluded from society, or cuddled with her cat in their nice, warm bedroom.