Onions

I cooked one of my favorite things today

Onions, cabbage, garlic

Massaged with salt

Roasted slowly

With bratwurst and mustard

For about three hours

Until the whole house reeks

Of musky sweaty cabbage

The way I prefer

My house to smell

It keeps assholes at bay

Nobody who hates cabbage

Is a friend of mine, anyway–

When I was preparing

My favorite delicacy

I picked a few onions

Greedily, not inspecting

Closely.

I cut into one and it was

Rotted the whole way through.

I cut into two and it was

Half rotted, other half

moldy all over.

I cut into the third onion

Hoping for some bit

Of fucking onion

Left for this goddamn recipe

That is supposed to be

My fucking SALVATION right now

The only thing that brings me joy

The only thing that makes me feel whole,

In control, able to live and able to enjoy

Rotted through the core

Over and over again

I hate to say it, y’all

But these onions are my whole perspective

On life, and how things are going

I’m rotted

Garbage

Molded

But ooooo look at my layers

I would have been so delicious

I would have been so nutritious

If someone hadn’t thrown me down,

Spit on me,

Scarred me,

Shut me in the closet

Put a chair against the door

Waited for mom to come home

So she could make me write

An apology to her

The one who hit me

Every time she left for work

But anyway

Who am I to say

These onions are a metaphor

I’m just some rotted bruised

Bitter tangy twisted

Old gay whore, waiting to

Stuff their face with sausage and cabbage

Accepting my fate

Just grab another bag,

You fucking loser

Right yes

I’ll get right on it, self-sir

I even hate the way I

Cut onions, sometimes.


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