20 November 2018

Yolk

Swollen brain, pulsing to be
everything I hate,
forgets
that you have a monopoly
on mental illness.
You--
candy floss hair;
biggest eyes,
milk chocolate
and over-sweetened--
grasp at the thought,
sprinkled and dazzling,
but you won't
forgive me.
The core of me
gave every piece of advice
I could muster,
small cookies
hot and sugary.
I gave you the last one
when you decided
it wasn't ample for you.
If only I loved you enough
to give you everything,
every morsel of myself.
My swollen brain cracks
into a big white bowl,
sits on the counter,
sulphurous and cursed.