It’s not the wickedness that kills us
but the expectations
and the pretense
but the expectations
and the pretense
It’s not
the poison apple
or even
the apple
of The Knowledge
of Good and Evil
it’s the
hundreds of apples
over the
years
bruised
and mealy
offered
for our own good
It’s not
the single, clean stab of a blade
it’s a thousand
paper cuts
it’s not
one deep gash from the sword
but a
million little jabs of the pen
that add
up to our demise
Death by
hypocrisy
death by
conformity
death by
good intentions
Image by Brooke Shaden.
Written shockingly late for The Sunday Muse.
