Baking to fill
a role and name,
one of mocking
or playful affection?
It’s still unclear,
and maybe
it’s better that way.
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
Baking to fill
a role and name,
one of mocking
or playful affection?
It’s still unclear,
and maybe
it’s better that way.
Scan the empty spaces
and try to fill
with no time,
does it hide the problem
effectively?
Or just presents
a rushed
uncared for
view of life?
Prepare and repeat
while creating
stories in your head.
The people aren’t real,
but the emotions are.
That has to count
for something,
right?
Ten racks
of preparation
while others
ghost past
and ignore
cries for help.
Their claws
reach miles away,
digging deep
and injecting guilt
so they
don’t pretend
to carry it.
Add
a brighter layer
and lift your mood
with each stroke,
entering a state
of contentment
while the evidence
of production
is there
for all to see.
Recognition
finally shown
just as your will
was about to snap.
Are you a rubber band
to them?
How many times
will you stretch
before you
start to tear?
Rest a moment longer
and miss your chance
to grab the energy
needed
for the rest of the day.
How will you
survive now?
Plaster the hollow
left as
chipped away chunks,
hoping a new strength
can form
and hold
to paint
a better time.
Brighten up
your perspective.
Renew but ignore
until someone else
demands the presence.
Is it more appealing now
just because
a time limit
makes you
pause
and really look?
Cling to routine
so exhaustion
doesn’t distract.
Months to go
until excitement returns,
can you last?
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