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mac & cheese
she’s wild
like a sunday afternoon in my grandpa’s house.
everyone screaming
bickering
then somehow
peaceful after a few
beers.
she’s pretty,
with her black long locks
framing her petite
face and chocolatey
eyes that melt
me into the disgusting
mac and cheese
i am.
i’m not wild,
she knows that-
i’m boring.
but she seems to stay and i know
that one day she leaves,
i will go wild
like a normal day in my house
where the chaos lurks and the
peace
can’t seem to take over.
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