Toxic

She is ,

The poison apple

I immaturely plucked off the tree,

Bittersweet juice I would only allow

Different versions of myself to taste.

Poisoning myself

I’d forgotten I was a product of abundant nature,

A creation with no sense of humanity;

Until she whispered sweet nothings behind my wet ears.

She is ,

The monster under my bed.

A memory I can’t decipher --

A childhood dream? Or reoccurring nightmare ?

“My body still remembers the places you touched”

My tears still scream for her.

She is the first taste of love;

Like a baby reaching for the nipple ,

I cried for her.

She is

“The only person who’s ever touched me”

Soberly, at least --

The only hands I let control me.

She is gone.

But no amount of years could release

Her fingerprints from my body.