Poetry by Kat

Cake

I baked a cake.
It was sweet, layers and layers of icing.
Strawberries and gelatinous words on top.
It was fresh, it was soft and it was pure.
Best of all it was mine, and I didn't want to share it with anyone.

Then he came along. He asked me to let him take a slice and when I told him no, he stopped being nice.
He called me rude, selfish. Saying that I'd have to share it eventually before it became old and stale.
But I still told him no.

Then he took.
He picked up the slice when I wasn't looking and bit into it.
I screamed .
I cried.
I begged him to stop.
But he continued to
eat
and eat
and eat
until the cake was gone, and the
Red remnants of jam dribbled down his chin.

I baked another cake.
but now I'm scared to give it away.
I want it to be all mine but if I don't share it I'm 'boring' or 'selfish' men desire cake, so I should take pride in decorating mine in frills and fruits and letting them take as much as they want.
But I don't want to share my cake.
It's mine.
It's mine.
ITS MINE!
And, besides, I've only ever wanted to share it with girls anyway.