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Pastries

Bruise me—
I Dare You.
Give me all your hate,
On a platter,
With sprinkles and sugar
In the form of cookies and treats.

Write messages of repulsion;
Right near that chocolate chip.
Go ahead.

Yum.
I Eat Mouthfuls.
Your vile words, tasty.
“Malevolent.”
“Hopeless.”
“Feckless.”
“Useless.”

Pass me another?
Please.
Mom, you were Always the best cook.
Too bad,
I’m learning fast—
A little Chef now.
An apprentice.

Now it’s my turn to feed.




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