20th of Janury
21th of Februari
22th of March
23th of April
24th of May
25th of
This is time
measured by humans life.

rushing at the speed of girls
flattering theirs oversized eyelashes
and boys crashing into
fence from bikes,
the first word "mammy", which dad
did not record
It expires at the speed of the ran-out shelf life
of your beloved biscuit and hated milk
that you're allergic to.

down on the way to round-the-clock shop
the world seems fragile
like the handle of a plastic bag

dropped cookies decompose in the white sea
of lactose

time is slowing down

soft pieces of purity laid out on a parchment sheet
it smells like raw memory and a warm home
mixed with a spoon to create something sweet
the lovely aroma lets all my memories foam

pouring in the milk laced with my very own blood
these cookies are for someone who is of worth
mixing in the flour, tears at my eyes threatening to flood
but I will endure the pain to put the dough by the hearth

before I put them in the oven, I try a little taste
I feel sick, and my stomach begins to cramp and ache
I ***** all over the floor and look at all the waste
instead of cookies, next time I should make a cake

Some nights you
were the moon.
Sailing through waves of milk
Before disappearing
into the vulnerability
Of what we keep on the inside.
It's no wonder why cookies
Are so popular.
The outer edge
drenched in saliva,
Curiously protecting
what's kept Precious.
A slight pause before everything
Is mushed & swallowed.
Some nights you were the moon.
Drenched in white fudge
Swirling in a universe all of your own.
Some nights you were the universe
Itself

I tap my notes with the tip of my black pen
Before I dare to look... then I look again.
I endure for another ten,
****... I just can't resist
And another cookie ceases to exist.
Hey, at least now it can't disrupt my zen!