Negative

Someone has force fed me a lemon whilst I've been lost to sleep or daydream. It's the only reasonable conclusion I can come to for the scrunched-nosed, puckered-lip face I'm wearing all the time at the moment.

Someone has force fed me a lemon, sneaky sneak and subtle, squeezing bitter juice into my mouth to run as muttered curses and complaints every time I speak.

The pips stick in my throat. Bullets. Tears. Blocking the path to a proper breath and making smiling hard.

The pith falls like snow and settles on my lashes, blocking every view with irritating specks. I can't see a pretty picture anymore - only one sallowed by the smudges in my vision.

Someone has force fed me a lemon and I'm so damn full of it that all I do is snarl and snort and write-off and hide away.

It's a negativity lemon.
And it's squeezing me from the inside out.