I tread lightly when I talk about him.
When a knife slices an apple,
it makes a very clean cut.
And there are exactly two things
you can clearly hear.
The sound of the blade
against the core of the fruit.
Fleshy, swift, gliding smoothly.
And the sound of the blade
against the wooden board.
Stiff and quick.
That’s how it felt with him.
That’s how I describe the past
But in reality, it was a lot more stained
Because after you cut an apple,
its taste is ultimately succulent.
But breaking up with someone is raw.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.