I loved you because I loathe myself.
I blindly pushed through the red flags you were covered with, armed with an explanation for every asinine decision.
‘You did what?’ you asked me, eager to pile on the shame men reserve for the women they dishonor with their advances.
I accepted that I made a mistake but I was mistaken that I owed you anything, let alone my life.
By eating apples, I realized that I am the universe experiencing itself.
I am the fruit of the tree of life.