I peeled an orange today. As my nails sunk well within the orange's bright, healthy skin, I am reminded of my brother and his smile, how he managed to keep his even when the world seemed to rid of theirs. So, I saved a portion for him.
I peeled an orange today. As I reached the next portion of this perfect orange which sat gently within the grasp of my hands, I am reminded of mother. I am reminded of her eyes which always remained kind, even when her soul was broken down to nothing. So, I save a portion for her
I peeled an orange today. As I broke halfway through the skin, I am reminded of my father. I laugh thinking about him, of course he's a little further within. We do not talk much; we are not as close. But still, I save a portion for him.
I peeled an orange today. As the skin fell off, and I reach the juicy insides, I am reminded of her. A smile reaches my mouth and my eyes light up remembering her gentle lips. Remembering how I loved her. She moved a long time ago and hasn't talked to me since. I save a portion for her and hope she stops by to get it.
I peeled an orange today. As I grabbed the cutting board, I am reminded of my old school mates. I remember the way we used to play and enjoy the warm summer days. I save a portion for them and the fun times we shared, even when I know I'll never see them again.
I peeled an orange today. As I began the last step, which was slicing it up, I am reminded of my family. An array of faces circle my mind and I save a portion for them too. Though, I know they won't eat this orange because they don't care much for fruit.
I peeled an orange today. I sunk my fingers well within its bright skin. I saved a portion for everyone I loved even when I knew not one would show up.
I peeled an orange today and like I do with most things, I gave it away.
I peeled and orange today. Originally, it had been for me. I had sunk my nails into an orange to make the perfect lunch, but then like always, I thought too much. Slice by slice I sat aside this orange for each other person I loved, knowing they would never drop by to pick it up.
I peeled an orange today. Then, I realized no one was going to eat it. So, I threw it away.
I wasted a perfectly good orange today.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoetryA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
