Cored

Somewhere, near the
core of me,
I've gone numb.
You can carve me up
and I won't feel a thing;
now when I delve inside for pips
I come up 
empty-fingered.

Apple, apple,
you are wise:
Will I wither or bear fruit?
Am I even alive,
or one big bruise
under my skin?

When I say I don't know,
I mean that.
I've been cored,
and there's a hole where
the answers are supposed to be.

(C) 2014 by Rosetti C.
Translunary Things
Advertisements
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Follow Translunary Things on WordPress.com
  • Top Posts & Pages

  • Recent Posts

  • Categories

  • Archives

  • Goodreads

%d bloggers like this: