You are an exotic repast and I’d like to partake

But each time I pull you close in order to taste your make

I find myself once again set on the path of collapse

Devastation, it awaits me for my gluttonous lapse.

Others swear you safe to sample

Yet when I heed their example

Tears well up and I cannot breathe

Your presence gives me cause to grieve.

Perhaps there is some raw emotion that I’ve ill prepared

But all of these repeated poisonings have left me scared.

So many love you, I cannot claim you to be toxic

However, I do believe that I might be allergic.

Sweet at distance, sour at lip

What a strange fruit your loving is.