Bruised Banana

Sometimes I love you. Other times I can't stand you. You hurt me deeply. Sometimes I think you permanently wounded me. I know I hurt you too. Bruised you when you'd bruise me. We were not too good to one another obviously. It makes me sad to think about. Why did we allow so many things to come between us? Why didn't we try harder to work things out? Now you're just a bruised banana on my counter top. I wish I could peel back your skin and cut off all of the bruised parts I don't want. I wish you were still there for me, for them. I wish you were good for my health, theirs. Now what ever remnants are left of our so-called relationship are in the trash. Just like the bruised banana that was too far gone to save. What a tragic end to what ever we thought we had. One minute loving with everything you have, the next looking back at teary eyes in the rear view. I wonder if our tragic past makes you sad. I wonder if you ever recap the things you did or things you said. I wonder if you wish you could take things back. I wonder if you know that you could've done many things differently. But then I remember what you really are to me. Unfortunately bruised bananas don't have feelings. They just sit there waiting to be picked from the bunch and eaten for lunch. The ones who are never chosen, well their story ends a little differently. They ripen then rot. Kind of sounds like your heart. If I haven't told you before that I'm sorry things ended up this way it's probably because I'm not. Take care while I eat me perfect pear.