the reason i was good with cooking,
is because no one would cook for me
home alone
with only the sun to look after,
and the moon to tell me my bedtime stories
and the clouds to comfort me
and the flowers i cared for,
because i knew what it felt like to slowly die
and no one knew about it.
life was okay,
life was better when i cooked a great meal.
life was better when the stuffed animals sat around the table
like a life with a family who cared
smiley and happy
life was better in that way.——————-——————-——————-——————-——————-——————-——————-————
"This is so fuming good!" Amitola giggled, stuffing her face.
"Glad you like it.." I smiled.
"But I can't eat that much.." She muttered.
"Hm? Why?" I scrunched my nose.
"I don't want to look fat when I get home." She sighed, pushing the plate away.
"Hey.. how about we go somewhere today.." I push the plate back over to her.
"Where to?" She smiled, she didn't push the plate back.
"Secret.. but it's going to be a picnic!" I giggled.
"Ooo!" She grinned.
"When do you want to go?" I smiled.
"Around lunch?" She looked up at me.
"Sounds good!"
YOU ARE READING
Life, Not Roses
شِعرAs Alice struggles into 9th grade, she realizes that life is not the beauty caught in movies in films. Her perfect life turned upside down as life crashes down on her family.