The One I Need Most

I never thought what it would be like

when She was gone.

A presence I always felt

and cherished,

now devoid.

It’s only been two weeks,

but it feels like Halley’s Comet

has already passed Earth

twice.

She was an apple tree

trying to produce lies

that said life was okay.

If only I looked at the core

and noticed the rot

that corrupted the fruit.

Depression grew in them.

Once situated, it never left

because that’s not

in its nature.

The fruit went first, but

once the root of life was struck

Her fate had been sealed.

I wish I could tell people

that I saw how She was feeling.

I didn’t.

That was and is

my worst crime—

not knowing,

not understanding that She was fracturing.

I kept tending to the apples, but

I must have consumed all the good ones.

I didn’t hear the cries

that watered the foundation

to nurture Depression.

Now I pick apples alone,

because it drove Her

to find solace at home.

Depression picked an innocent body,

but it has never had someone

that could hold it off.

Only after it settles, can anything be done.

I don’t keep the apples anymore;

I chuck them as far as my strength allows.

But she was my source of power

and so the apples lay on the ground.

All I see is the shiny red luster

that protects the middle...

What did I do to you?

What didn’t I do to save you?