Lessening my intensity for your comfortability
Goes against maintaining the truest version of me
It’s not fair to be put on the back burner
Until you’re ready to start cooking
You shouldn’t be looking for a meal
That you aren’t ready to come prepared for
Browsing recipes is one thing
But to buy the ingredients
That you’re going to let spoil is another
I’m having trouble
Deciphering what you want from me
Intimidated by my curiosity
I’m waiting for an atrocity or animosity
You see, I’m not convinced that you can handle me
Can’t call yourself a chef if all you do is prep
But never take the chance to make the meal
Can’t pour from an empty glass, can’t eat from an empty plate
Maybe this is fate starving you
Of all the things that you thought you wanted