cease to begin [on hold]

recipe of mine

a handmade smile
is what i bake,
every night.
to wear it
everytime the light
is enough
for those eyes
to connect with mine.

crumbled efforts
to raise that
tiny voice,
lives under these
rented rooftops
rentfreely,
mixing with these
sugary dreams
and salty eyes. 

a coating of
something fake,
is wrapped around
these parched fingers.
and lip glossed
over my lips
to speak only
when it's time.

and oh
how do i forget
the icing of hate,
the self loathe,
that completes this
recipe of mine.

- e n d  o f  p a r t  i -