He is the onion; me, the pepper

by Casey Loper

 

Hidden

behind so many layers.

The tips of my fingers blister

as I pull them away.

Searching for his center,

His soul-

 

He drains my eyes

of their color, a dull

dull gray. I cry every time.

Bitter, he has no tenderness,

he is lifeless.

 

Fighting to keep my heat

We are so different-

He mumbles and I spin,

wheels turn, sparks

shoot from my mouth.

 

So why do I try?

He is the onion;

me the pepper-

But every time

is like, the first time.