On this day of pride, we gather 'round,  
With cupcakes bright, where colors abound.  
Orange, white, and green they wear,  
A sweet salute, beyond compare.

Saffron swirls like morning's dawn,  
A vibrant hue, where hopes are drawn.  
In every bite, a promise new,  
Of strength and courage, tried and true.

White cream peaks with peace in sight,  
A symbol pure, of truth and light.  
Each tender crumb, a gentle nod,  
To harmony's path, where all may trod.

Green icing dances, fresh and bold,  
A future bright, in tales untold.  
With every taste, we see the fields,  
Of dreams we sow, and harvest yields.

In every cupcake, a story lies,  
Of freedom won, beneath the skies.  
On this, the 78th year, we cheer,  
For India's spirit, ever clear.

So take a bite, let sweetness flow,  
In each delight, let freedom grow.  
For in these treats, our hearts do sing,  
Of India's past, and what tomorrow brings.

Natsuki baked some cupcakes.
She left them all on the tray.
A blink of an eye,
Sayori dropped by
and took the whole tray away.

Befriend a devil, it would be the unlikely yet best cupcake in your pantry of memories.

Cupcakes are made from scratch, anything that comes in convenient
A devil may be, but they are made from power, vices, and flaws,
and they come in convenient too when you let your demons offer it with a cup of coffee.

A pantry of memories would be boring if you prefer it in monochrome,
Angels with pretentious halos, or Humans with humanity
but then they all left anyway, like how icings are scrumptious
but the cake batter lack one essential ingredient or two.

The devil's cupcake icing would be in dark hues, bittersweet but real
It would have probably lived itself in multiple attempts at life,
Drowning in vices, manipulating people, scarred of flaws, but then again real
Befriend and touch a devil's heart like you would judge the cupcake completely based on the cake itself..

If it is tamed, know that a devil wore power to mask its pains,
If it isn't, feel free to set aside such, along with the Heartless Creatures that grow horns for themselves.

IA

My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours.

Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess.

I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think.

When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time.

When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend.

It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first.

When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise.

And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her.

I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself.

You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say.

"Hey. I made it another day."

I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind.

I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on.

By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain.

I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me.
And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life.

And if I have kids one day, do you really think...

That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl...

By making blue or pink...

...cupcakes?

There is nothing quite like a Caramel Apple Thumbprint Scone
I bought two tonight, one for the road and one for home.
Sometimes I buy one for me and one for Mum,
Didn’t bother to tell her I ate them both…every… last… crumb.

Tonight on my way home I decide to buy a baker’s dozen
The trouble with that is I ate six and got an upset stomach
Now here I sit upon this throne, tootin’ and thinking all alone
That there’s nothing like a Caramel Apple Thumbprint Scone….hic!

K.E. Carman
2017