I've just created my first white bread loaves.
I've mixed every color, worn every shade.
I have pranced in foot-long heels,
Trying hard to gain a grasp...
But in mixing my yeast
Folding in my flour
letting my baby rise
and
Baking my loaves just right
I've never felt more confident in myself.
And that's a gift, eh?

never a dancer,
nor had I intended,
but you crafted me
from board-stiff limbs
and
with a lick and promise
I danced.

from the strings dangling down
from a heart-sporting sleeve,
a marionette I was
you tugged to the rhythms
you pulled through the silence
and against my intentions
I danced.

The ascension and depletion of self-worth
When you lose the ability to write
Relatable poetry

Once I'm on my own two feet
It'll start to make sense
I do not want to be provided for
Anymore

How can we be when you don't let me near you
How can you wish i was near when i'm 10 minutes on foot away
How can you dream i'm on your doorstep and lock your door

I dont want to start over