(So, my friends and I were talking about cheese, and I decided to make a poem about it... Because being creative is hard.)
I see it sitting on the counter, watching my every move. It is as if I have hidden some horrible secret, and it stays there, waiting for me to give into temptation.
There are moments where I doubt my strength. I shine the spotlight towards my insecurities, but this object, displayed in the most tasteful way, brings the greatest one back to my memory.
I stress over what amount I can take before it is too much. I have been starved before, taught to cut back the calories. I was shown that my body is only worth my number on the scale.
But, as my gaze drills hypothetical holes into my counter, there is only one thought fluttering through my filtered brain.
Cheese.
(I didn't mean to make it that serious, but I'm too lazy to change it. So, I'm sorry.)
©poetic_peh
P