The Apple Blind To The War

I never wanted to be like him—
Bitter, angry, cold, and grim.
I never wanted to be like her—
Fragile, lost, a prisoner.

I never wanted to be like them—
Their poison runs through every stem.
My life was spent in fierce defiance,
But now I see the failed alliance.

The apple, it falls close to the tree,
No matter how far I tried to flee.
All the while, I fought and cried,
Yet mirrored them in all I tried.

Recreating wounds I sought to mend,
The past repeating, end to end.
I told myself I’d break their chain,
But carried their shadows all the same.

I’ve been the anger, I’ve been the fear,
I am the faces I held so near.
Destroying what I thought was me,
Blind to the war I could not see.

The apple doesn’t fall far, they say,
And now I taste the fruit’s decay.
I swore I’d rise, I swore I’d destroy,
But I am shaped by what I avoid.

Now I gather the seeds of my past,
To plant a truth that will at last
Grow something new, unchained, unbound—
A better self, from this broken ground.