the apple trees are dying

the sunrise has grown useless and old.

my stomach churns as peppermint tea slips down my throat. oh, it aches, oh it burns…

but isn’t this what i wanted all along? a nice little life. wailing out my siren song. and i’ll chase after it endlessly. i’ll let some half-baked fantasy string me along. but i never meant to hurt you. and i don’t know where i went wrong…

because the apple trees are broken husks of what they used to be. because i am alone, as the power lines topple. but i have to laugh. because isn’t it so funny? how easy it is, to impersonate a home. but it won’t last forever.

the tips of my fingers turn black and blue. and i’m sorry. that i lost sight of you. drunk on the power, of being so strong and tall. of standing high above the clouds, so there was no one left to make me feel small.

but if i could, i’d take back everything i said. i’d burn it all. i’d find myself, between the smoke and mirrors. and you’d promise to catch me. and i’d let myself fall.

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