Decay of Control

I allowed a pear to sit

to rest, to create

allowed its juice to soak the counter

to drip onto the linoleum 

I let it unfold as it would please

—I forsook it

March turned to July

and although warm

the pear was furrowed

and somewhat vexed

completely flat

The guilt overcame me

I shut all the windows

ceased time

tried to undo

I stuffed it in the fridge

drowned it in vinegar

and when that didn’t suffice

I coated it in jam

I squeezed lemon

doused in sugar

and rested it over embers

Wincing in a trance 

I rinsed it clean

and shamed it of its skin

all that I had done 

and the small hand raced on

–indifferent to us

I unraveled my sobs

and let my fist take over

as the end of its prime already arrived

As my knuckles raced down

and took over its life

my face suddenly dried

met with youthful stones inside.