I’ve been inspired by my friend, Katie to publish an old poem from August 10th, 2008, that came back into my mind a few days ago. It was found in an old poetry book of mine, that is unfinished (i should write more poetry, but 70,000 word novels keep happening).
I broke down their garden gate
in a fit of fire and fury,
breaking twigs and ants beneath my toes.
I stood in front of your apple tree
to pull down your red, ripe apple.
I held it in my hand with pride a sly sin.
Shiny and wonderful as you are.
Cut it in half to see a star.
The symbol that I happened to draw.
I took a bite of the stolen good
sweet and flooding my taste buds.
It was yours and now I give a gift to myself.
Like you would want it anyway.
I am the reason there is poison in the apple.
I am the one capable of measuring it into vials.
and making a dose equivalent to what I consume
What antidote is this you possess?
What antidote makes you naive and sheltered?
These apples rot on your trees.