there's a cookbook
in the last drawer of my dresser
that is against the further wall of the other room painted hospital gown blue
i always hated that room
it leaves a sour taste in my mouth and the colour reminds me of bitterly pointed needles

the cookbook however
is covered in a layer of gentle dust
it doesn't offend me when i touch the grubby cover and the text is small and neat and pleasing to my eyes

it has the recipe to break your heart
and i follow it sometimes
step after step after step
and i hate myself for it

but the font is too polite
and i'm too easy to convince
and i know i'll regret what i'm making
and i know it'll leave a sour taste in my mouth just like the hospital gown blue walls
but that room is still in my house
and you're still in my heart
so i continue cooking the disaster and wait for it to arrive

patiently