life isnt always the frosting on the cupcake
sometimes its the wrapper and
belongs in the trash

i feel like a shredded jigsaw puzzle
the unsolvable rubik's cube
abstract art by the picasso of melancholy
who couldnt find a way out of his blue period
melted ice cream sundae and cherry
sitting forgotten rotting on hot summer concrete

the common man of the cubicle
would eat people like me for dinner
and he would enjoy it too with his
overly happy son and his
overly happy wife and his
overly happy purebred golden trophy dog
i sit at the middle of the table
the eye of attention and
stuffed by an apple to keep me shut and
they stare at me ready to tear me apart and
for dressing tonight they will eat my tears

cover me in blankets and lay me down in bed
i will slip away for the night and
in the morning hopefully
i will be a step closer to completed

Chocolate on chocolate,
the faintest tang of
apricot jam with a side
of whipped cream. Oh, yes!
Decadent, scrumptious
sachertorte.
Sigh!

you're an oasis stream,
running through my empty wasteland

They put me in the oven to bake.
Me a deprived and miserable cake.
Feeling the heat I started to bubble.
Watching the others I knew I was in trouble

They opened the door and I started my life.
Frosting me with a silver knife.
Decorating me with candy jewels.
The rest of my batch looked like fools.

Lifting me up, she took off my wrapper.
Feeling the breeze, I wanted to slap her.
Opening her mouth with shiny teeth inside.
This was the day this cupcake had died.