Painted Apple

When I was younger

The girls I called friends

Would huddle with me at lunch

They’d ask me

What boy I fancied

What I liked

And be upset

At my silence


“I like no one!”

I’d say to them

And they’d call it a lie

I would turn red

And they’d say

I was blushing


Finally I’d relent

And say

That I liked


They’d be satisfied

And then

One girl

Would say

She liked “M” too

And I couldn’t have him


We would disagree

Over a boy

I cared nothing for

And then

One would fix their affections

On another


It was expected you see

Other girls expected there to be

An apple in my eye

I had no apple

So I painted the apple

The one who I’d see

In a red light

When all I wanted

Was friendship

Not questioning

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