An Apple a Day

So here’s the poem I’ve been working on in response to Angela’s session. About first heartbreak. Let me know what you think.

An Apple a Day

You polished an apple, gleaming and red.
He said there was another girl.
A heart is like an apple.
He said he liked to watch you walk down the hall.
An apple is a fist of a fruit.
He said it wasn't you.
The tears in your eyes disbelieve him.
The curled tongue, also, mistrusts.
You wish you could stop yourself from crying.
He said he was sorry.
You stare out a blank window,
desperate to blame someone.
Instead of stars, you count your faults.
You miss the transport of kissing,
You begin at the body.
Slow as mashed potatoes, you run at night,
from streetlamp to streetlamp.
You welcome gasping for breath.
An apple bites clean.
You teach yourself to eat the whole of it,
seeds and all.
He said he didn't mean for it to happen.
Most days all you eat is an apple,
dreaming of teeth marks.
Your hunger is some kind of company.
Over time, you become less.
He said he'd see you around.
You are hard to find,
you take up so little space.
One day your sister makes you laugh.
You laugh and laugh, resetting
all your appetites.