Half-Baked

With deep breaths she attempts

To release

Steel wool snarls of

Tightly knotted composure

Relax, if just a split-second

Into starkness of her own truth

Unstrung, her heart heavily crumbles

Falls leaden into her gut

As lovingly crafted

Poorly formed cookies

Drop in sweet shambles

To baker’s chagrin.

Terrified witness to

Her hearts demolition

Or was it instead

Brittle protective shell?

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