I wanted the perfect cake.
With the perfect layers.
With the perfect coating.
But all I got was a stack of it.
A stack of rejects.
Desperately coated to its most presentable.
At its most passable.

It began with the first layer.
After all, I was careful.
Less mistakes.
Less complications.
Less lies.

Braver, bolder,
I crafted the second layer.
More mistakes.
More complications.
More lies.

Annoyed,
I began the third layer.
More and more mistakes.
More and more complications.
More and more lies.

Desperate,
Came the fourth layer.
More and more and more mistakes.
More and more and more complications.
More and more and more lies.

The more I go forth.
The more frustrated I become.
The more layers.
The more lies.

What comes after the layer of cake?
Another layer.
What comes after a lie?
Another version of that same lie.

In the end,
All I'm left with is lost time.
And the gradual worsening of my problem.

Eventually,
I'll find this cake collapsing.
Reminding me that there are limits.
To the amount of tries.
To the amount of layers,
That I can make.

So,
I find myself getting rid of the cake.
In a dramatic scene I form in my head.

You know me,
I won't just get rid of the cake.
I'd get rid of the whole occasion.