If I was an object
I’d be a spoon
You can fill me up with your words and all of your proof
Proof that you love me
But please
Don’t lift me too high
Because I might spill over the edge
If you hold me up
Too close to the light
On my way to you
For you to consume me whole
And take back all of what you have just given me
Out of your bowl
Use it for nourishment to heal your selfish soul
Then spit me out because my metal’s too hot
I might burn your tongue
It’s not an excuse anymore
Me just being young
To be too loud when I crash on the table
To love the fight
Just to be able
Bowl empty
Burnt food and old wishes
To be tossed in the sink
Full of all the rest of your dirty dishes
