It’s ironic when you think
I should let things just be the way they are
and appreciate them as they exist—
the way they exist being the way
you’ve created them.

I think of it
the way I think of someone who
cooks a meal
with too much salt,
not enough sugar
or too long
at the wrong temperature
but stubbornly cleans their plate
night after night.

Yet, when I forget
that fragile egos need praise
or that insecurity seeks external validation
or even just the extra tablespoon
of garlic,
I need improvement.