Poetry

Bread

She asked me if
she could take my bread
I was fond of her
so I said yes

Although it was
the last piece of bread
it left my hand
and went to hers

Then she ate
om nom nom
gave a smile
and I was full

—————

Chocolate Milk

I said I would finish it
after nagging you to buy it
but as it turns out
I’m still enslaved to
the intolerant master of lactose 
and I must renege on my promise
I was wrong to say I would finish it
because I certainly cannot finish it

—————

The First Time I Understood Love

My childhood is mostly a blur, but I remember
the night I was furious at my mom,
probably for something I did

I slammed my door, refused dinner,
and went to bed determined not to come out

Around 3 a.m., hungry and stubborn,
I crept to the kitchen like a thief in my own house
and there it was on the table—
leftovers covered in plastic, warm

I peeled it back and steam hit my face
Then the tears came
They fell into the rice and made it salty
I ate it all