eyes betray me.
this time has not yet rippend for me to taste it.
i sit and watch as times color changes.
things appear more vived with clearity.
i can see.
i picked the fruit that seems to never rippen.
as others get there taste.
i sit.
wait.
for anxiety isnt the only thing eating me.
the hate for time as it moves to slowly.
i no longer wish for a taste.
nor do i wish for another fruit.