All my memories there are bad
Not one good
I have been hated upon and beaten
In that very place - the kitchen
The place where food is prepared
But only my soul was prepared
For the worst that life could bring me
My soul was not seasoned or salted well - in the kitchen
The place where a touch of love is added to food
Became more like a place where a touch of hate was added to my heart
No hot soup or hot cocoa could take the hate out
Not from the place where my soul was battered and bruised
Because in the kitchen my bad memories took place
And in the kitchen not an ounce of the goodness
Was made for my soul
Not even a touch of love
Or a hug of forgiveness
For in the kitchen all bad memories were made.
At least in the kitchen where I grew up.
Written August 28, 2016.