The Cherry Tree

August 22, 2011
By Anonymous

I remember clearly,
Exactly what you
Said to me
In the cherry tree,
On the day
I refer to
In my memory
As the
False Apology.

I remember
My fingers
Being stained
By the
Dark burgundy blood
Of cherries,
The dark
Wine flavored
Blood of black cherries.

I remember being close
To you in the cherry tree
Sitting high up in
That fragrant
Cradled by her strong
With you next to me.

I remember what you
--sun tanned skin and blue eyes--
How you smelled.
I remember the scent,
That strange, indescribable
Scent of boy.

I remember the sound
Of my own nervous
Saying nothing,
Just wondering.
My hair a mess;
My body shaking.

And I remember you
Cool and calm,
Spitting cherry pits…
Their blood coating
Your smile,
Staining your teeth.

I remember
Thinking of
The times before,
What as children
We had done
The memories
And how they were
Dark, but this time
Was light and
We were no longer
Naïve children,
And we weren’t stupid
Like before.

I remember being afraid
Of what you would say,
Knowing the way you
Looked at me
With uncertainty in your
I knew.
I feared you would
Dig up
The memories
I have spent my
Life trying to hide,
And you did.

I remember tears in your eyes.
I will always
Remember the first time
I saw a boy cry.
I remember exactly
What you said when
You apologized.

I remember
Granting you my
Watching relief flood
Your eyes, felt the
Opposite fill mine.
I remember the
Hot sun high above
Growing dark
And I too cried.

I remember
Watching you
Pick cherries,
Selecting them
Murdering them.
I remember hearing their
Screams--silent and
Desperate like mine.

I remember watching,
The dripping blood of
A cherry and wishing
It was mine.

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