You, my rotten apple

I am conflicted by the way
I am coated with smiles
When I am outwardly aware
Of the lies you repeatedly sing,
Like praise would burn you
Had you the ability to know
What stands in between
Love and distain.

Each laugh taunts me,
Ringing shrill in my ears
And yet I diligently react
As though your fingers dug into
the waist you claim to desire.

Through and through I know
you are wicked,
But with eternal hope I believe
Even rotten apples
Hold treasure close within.

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