April 4th: An Inadequate Apology

An Inadequate Apology

Words come easily to me. So I’ll bake a cake.

I can flesh out bullet points. I can summon a string

of substance-less syllables at a moments notice,

and no matter how much I mean them; 

they won’t matter. Because they’re words.

And words come easily to me.

And so I’ll bake a cake. I’ll work it out.

And I’ll get it wrong. And work it out again.

I’ll confuse sugar for flower, 

chocolate for raisins,

milk for water,

cream for icing

and butter for breadcrumbs.

I’ll curse over ovens. And rant over recipes.

And make a terribly poor cake.

Because I’m sorry.

And words come easily to me.