A Great Pear.

When I was little
there was a pear tree in the front yard of my heart.
And I swear that the first time I saw you
was hanging from that tree.
Skinny limbs hanging from skinny limbs,
hanging with me,
because we are one great pair.

We grow here,
and here we are.
We are ripe,
but one day we'll fall from our tree,
we'll rot.
We'll have our rough days.
Days where I spend holding everything I feel in,
in fear of you leaving me.

But sometime after those days,
filled with animosity, and confrontation,
and my passive aggressive, hard outer shell,
like I'm an unripe pear,
I'll cry.
And my tears will replenish us like rain,
let us grow.
And I promise that my eyes will never hold back enough tears
to create a flood and drown our love.

Still, one day we'll fall to our ground.
There we'll lay,
unsure what will happen next.
We'll rot,
we'll decompose,
and maybe we'll grow into something new,
but maybe we won't.

Maybe we won't.