I'm always excited to see a cake
When I walk into a room.
But the thing about this pastry
Is that I don't think it's very good.
I grab the plate with this sugary delight
And begin to dig in until
I realize
Once again
That cake is almost always not what I wanted;
There's too much frosting,
The flavor is nonexistent,
Too crumbly and dry.
I've began to realize that
It's not the cake I'm excited for,
It's whatever is going on that I am happy about.
If there is cake, then that means there's an event.
And I'm happy about the event.
The cake is a mere distraction.

You wanted
to have your
cake and eat it too
well honey
take a bite
I am spiked

Strawberry frosting
can be deceiving

cake, keister territory

“Oh, you’re baking a cake?
I can help with that!”
I say as I accidentally leave the cake in the oven too long and burn it.

“Oh, you’re painting a banner?
I can help with that!”
I say as I accidentally knock over a can of paint and make a mess.

“Oh, you’re moving some stuff?
I can help with that!”
I say as I accidentally drop a box of fragile things and break them.

“Oh, you’re struggling with something?
I can help with that!”
I say as I accidentally say the wrong things and make you feel worse.

“Oh, you’re struggling with something again…?
I would help with that, but…”
I say as I try my best to help anyway.

Maybe I can’t always help, but I can always try.

There will truly never be enough cake in this lifetime
but absence makes the heart grow fonder
isn't it?

Eating more than that
                      they can chew.

laxative dreams explode
                             in slumber.