I feel as though I am an apple.
In my youth I blossomed.
Then, my prettiness billowing in the breeze was tinted fresh and pink.
Growing into fruition I turned my face to the sun, enjoying its warmth and feeling the rain freshen my skin.
My summer has passed along with my rosy glow.
Now my cheeks begin to wrinkle and the shine is lost.
Inside, infection has set in and, slowly, I am being eaten away from the core.
I am hanging in mid air, waiting for the time to come when I fall to my final resting place and there I will rot away into the earth.
