Farewell, Dear Pumpkin
155 days. That’s how long you lasted.
You should be pleased with yourself, Pumpkin.
When I peeked on Wednesday, you were round and proud.
I whispered to you about our big plans for Sunday.
Collapsed in on yourself, is how I found you.
Your guts leaking out for me to see.
It was selfish of me to assume I could decide your fate.
Proclamations of destiny and slippery procrastination don’t go hand in hand.
I understand now. I do.
Your idea of soup is different from mine.