Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Posted on September 8, 2014
I almost wish it were A metaphor for death; decay! Instead you’ll be surprised To hear me say That coming home to Mouldy guacamole Holy moley! Guacamole! Is actually a measure Of my happiness My pleasure Green and lumpy Like it should be Now…
Category: cooking, mental health, observation, poetry, Uncategorized, writingTags: cooking, curry, Depression, food, guacamole, mental health, mexican food, poem, Poet, poetry, therapy, writing