Pretty on the Tree/Dirty on the Ground

Start as a flower,
pretty on the tree.
Grow to succulent fruit.
Lips ripe, waiting to be plucked
with juice that runs down the chin
Each bit, taking your skin.
Leaving your meaty desires exposed

Dropped on the ground
Watch as depression takes hold
Sucking your soul dry
Discarded and withering
Flesh bruised and burning in
the Summer’s heat