Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I remember cooking for two. Last Sunday afternoon, the stove light hit the fritz. Same bulb I ******* in the night before you called it quits. By Tuesday, the burner I simmered onions on had begun to rust away. Wet metal tears, as I sacrificed the dish we loved to the microwave. Round and round it went. Watching, as the plastic peeled and bent; remember treating you with the same contempt. Left with soggy slop and goo; starved for love, I eat my heart out with a spoon.
0
Jun 5, 2021
Jun 5, 2021 at 1:46 AM UTC
Hearty
I remember cooking for two. Last Sunday afternoon, the stove light hit the fritz. Same bulb I ******* in the night before you called it quits. By Tuesday, the burner I simmered onions on had begun to rust away. Wet metal tears, as I sacrificed the dish we loved to the microwave. Round and round it went. Watching, as the plastic peeled and bent; remember treating you with the same contempt. Left with soggy slop and goo; starved for love, I eat my heart out with a spoon.
Love is food we blindly consume.
Written by
28/M/NYC
Jun 5, 2021
Jun 5, 2021 at 1:46 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem