My compassion curls when this blade snaps into the board. Zest stings stale air around a ripened orange. My affection is rugged skin on a loose peel— pink flesh cowers beneath. I am quick to anger, faster to lunge, tender when spoken to but sick of some words too foreign to stomach

it is 12:30 am and I will hear a spread of tears burst into a heaving cry down the hallway, shadowed by rainfall dripping shamefully from sprinklers outside the window. A muffled anguish is near but my heart is distant. someone is breaking, and I am peeved. citrus pink wafts out into an open space where someone can taste acid in the wind.

tighten your grip on the handle, but I’ve let it loose. My sweetness fades eventually and everyone’s tongue folds at its tartness. Their eyes squeeze shut and I am ripped from their world. The slice has gone bad.

Turn my body and press its wound face-down. Let crimson drip past the edge of the board, wetting the ground, nestling in hiding.

There’s a new face to view; red glows orange in sunlight. My decay Shrivels away from view. Bitterness placated.

Never mind the rotten heart beneath the glow. Out of sight, breeding in the mind. Holding space in the gut. Planting its seed.

Making a home.