they say mommy runs the best bakery made from scratches
pooling with buttery love and confectionary affection on my jagged plate are her cookies
But burnt at the bottom
"just bite the black bits off"
Cough until your throat defines your mothers cooking as not the only thing you've been forced to deal with
choke on chocolate chunks that chance your life because I can't control mommy's counting scale
turns out she made a bad batch with the wrong oven
I feel so disgusting, and distasteful, and unwanted
my face resembles this cooking more than the curve of her chromosomes
baked behind your back
where do you go when mommy just wants to chew your crumbs up until every bone is snagging beneath her teeth
maybe I will become a chef someday
But I'll be sure to keep my oven warm, and bake with actual love
And my cookies
May take longer to go stale
~vivi
