Buttered Bread

My life is a slice of toast begging for buttering. So many threads of me. So many that demand to be woven, braeided into fabric. So little dedication I’ve reserved for each.

My life is a slice of toast begging for buttering.

My buttery dreams and goals poorly cover the span, leaving gaps in knowledge and skill. A patchwork wonder of myriad creamy pools slowly growing, but forever failing to reach one another.

And the bread keeps growing too.

What a wondrous bite it would truly be when the pools are conjoined, to have layers of cream piled on top of one another, for the bread to be soaked through with the fats of multidisciplinary success.

The creamy dream dreams on.

For now, let us jam.