Bread   by Annabelle Einhorn 

 

Kneed me like dough

Roll me flat out and let it all show

Mix my sins with my successes

My guilt with my pleasure and throw in chopped bits of worry for good measure

Twist all of my pain and insecurities

The cold whispers of winter painted like egg yolks onto my surface

Splattered with purpose

Take all of this pain in my heart and make it taste

Delicious

Fill someone’s bones with groans of satisfaction

The crumb of me should melt in your mouth

Mold me with your hands and place me into a pan

Heat me up, make me feel golden brown

Give me a tan

Remove me from the heat when I feel overwhelmed, at the cusp of perfection but so close to defeat

Break me apart to be shared

Slather me in butter and jam

Moments soaking and dripping into the cracks of my being

Engrossing me in new beginnings

Smothering my imperfections and the lacerations of my soul

Eat me whole

Warm and soft, never the same when I am cooled

Wrapped in passion

Steaming with discussion

The density of my personality hard to

Cut through

Sometimes the raw taste of flour doesn’t cook out and I overpower your devour of my character

 

But never forget me

 

Remember my presence and importance

My sadness and rejoices

Always thaw me when I get frozen

Or cooled when I get toasted

But even if you do none of these things

At least

Put me on a shelf for someone to buy and accept me for all of my slices