The way you scrapped me
solidly so the meat on my bones is picked clean.
Malingering with the charm of a sweet cream
but filled with distaste underneath,
neatly putting me in the box beneath your bed.

I find it unweildy, inconvenient;
To be carrying such a scene
in parts of me that you outlined without knowledge
They tell you to say grace before a meal
or at least wipe your hands first.