Avocado
Samantha Gibbons
I attempt to conceptualize the mere green layers I am within,
I nearly fail to recall my repentant companion;
I let time swiftly graze over the dust that I collect,
My pit begins to harden as I am left bereft
Sitting on the counter.
Envious of my fellow companions
Filling their position in this concept we call life,
Sizzling sounds arising from eggs being cooked,
Screaming with desire behind my layers,
Only leaving a slight mumble
Days turn to weeks,
Time disintegrates.
Vibrant green deteriorates into rotting brown,
Asphyxiation.
Is this really how I am going to go?
Thinning by the day,
Layers going to waste,
This is not how my story is supposed to be told.
Not one of my kind must have a pit,
Perhaps irrational doing leads to ignorance.
As dusk turns to dawn,
I am on the brink of purpose
Plush fingertips grasp onto my outsides,
Placing me gracefully onto a cutting board
I am no longer on the counter.
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