KNEADED

You kneaded me - it was utter bliss,

To feel your hands over my surface;

Your fingers pressing me here and there.

You made me feel like you'd really care.



But you shoved me into an oven,

With talk of sarnies; how you love 'em,

With a bit of butter and some cheese.

That really made my doughy heart freeze.



So I pushed open the oven's door,

I could let you torture me no more.

I escaped; for my sake, I had to.

You kneaded me, but I don't need you.





Around 2004