freshly plucked fruit

He said I was like freshly plucked fruit, 

Sweet, 

Succulent,  

Sexy. 

So fucking strange; 

 

He gazes at me 

Like a hungry animal  

Too fat to get out of the bathtub.  

The truth is,  

He is the ugliest person I have ever seen.  

 

I let him struggle.  

I watch him 

With calm eyes, 

But he knows:  

My skin feels wrong 

To be around him.  

 

He stops trying,  

And marinates in his thick sweat. 

An odor so vile, 

I’d rather be alone.  

 

I move 

To help him.  

The least I can do  

Is ease the pain from 

All that friction.  

But he grabs my knee 

Pulls me in  

And pushes my head down.  

I let myself drown 

As he walks out: 

Naked and unlovable.  

 

I am the whole fucking fruit tree. 

Cut me down,  

And I will grow again. 

For birds to sit on, 

After they’re tired of shitting on you all day.  

Cunt.  


Aarti Mukhedkar is an Indian student at The University of Edinburgh studying English Literature and History in her second year. She writes poetry, prose and fiction for magazines, blogs and most importantly, herself. She is an intersectional feminist that loves working with children and one day hopes to empower and educate underprivileged women and girl children in India.

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