Rushes of emotion
Consume me
Like the swarming
Of ants
On a rotting apple
I am the apple
Once surrounded
By a shining sheen
Then broken into
Torn apart
To reveal
The inside
Cold and wet
White nonetheless
Gleaming
Within seconds
The white becomes browned
The glimmer
Only a shimmer
Of the past
Tiny chunks
Are taken out
Piece by piece
Lying on the concrete
Once on a pedestal
Nothing but
A thin layer
Containing all the rot
That lays inside
Once shown to the air
The truth spreads
Take me
Tear apart my soul
Hold parts of me
Within your hands
Tell me I am beautiful