fu hua

the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree so the rot in the apple must stem from the bark the roots that creep and drain of life keeps us sour; unable to mend you ruined me and i ruined you. i hate you and i love you. i don’t know what to do. what can i do? i can’t leave you you’ll always be a part of me your roots digging in to my very core and i don’t want you to let me go but you’re so horrible— yet so kind every word you spit tastes like poison but your touch is so intimately, unbearably, soft i want to run away i want to run into your arms again i want you to beg me to stay i want you to set me free the apple is rotten, and what rots it is the tree but how can i blame you? even the oldest trees were once only apple seeds how can i blame you, when you were once me? how can i blame an rotten apple for growing into a rotten tree? you rot me, because it’s all you know you’ve been rotten from the inside out and now you rot me too and i hate you i love you i pity you it’s all the same in the end, i will grow into a rotten tree too