Tangerine

My heart is a tangerine

That I left in the bottom of my bag

For three days, and now everything smells like oranges

My heart is a rotten apple

With ants gathering around the sides

Sticky sweet, but also getting moldy

I've gotta take care of me

It's too soft now, too soft to handle

And it slips right through my fingers

Vulnerability is a gamble

And I'm putting all of my chips in now

My heart is a forgotten strawberry

Left over from a lover's afternoon

Of drinking wine on a blanket under the yellow moon

This squishy heart of mine

Will it harden over time?

Is it better to feel everything

Or protect myself from the world outside?