I wanted to be your Brave Little Toaster.
Fueled on lumps of indignity and subtle omissions,
your nuclear soul was toxic
I stayed plugged into it.
Eagerly awaiting with the dawn
squares of abuse and whole grain sadism.
turned all the way to 'darkest' desire.
Some days my esteem coil would shake
Instead of 'pop', there would be an
Teapot - you are lucky to be allowed release.
Burned identity crumbs rattle inside a
Wire ribcage bruised with want and one oh please.
To be discarded, broken, unclean.