The Baker
The life we built is exactly what we planned, and the bread is real: friendship, duty, care. For years I thought still being hungry meant something was wrong with me. It doesn't. Bread just isn't the only thing a person needs.
The house smells fine, like yeast and heat
The laundry’s folded, crisp and neat
Another invoice paid on time
Another mountain I gotta climb
You set the table with a gentle hand
The perfect life that we planned
You offer me the standard fare
Friendship, duty, and basic care
But you’re feeding bread to a dying man
I’m starving according to the plan
It looks like food, it tastes like love
But it’s poison that I’m made of
My blood inflames with every bite
Of this polite and quiet night
I’m a carnivore with a specific need
Trapped in a bakery, watching you knead
I tried the garnish, I tried the games
Distracted myself with other names
Bowling nights and paper heroes
Anything to fill the zeros
It’s just empty calories, a sugar spike
A temporary fix I used to like
But the crash comes hard and leaves me weak
For the only sustenance I seek
But you’re feeding bread to a dying man
I’m starving according to the plan
It looks like food, it tastes like love
But it’s poison that I’m made of
My blood inflames with every bite
Of this polite and quiet night
I’m a carnivore with a specific need
Trapped in a bakery, watching you knead
The sign on the door says "No Outside Food"
Don't ruin the stable, quiet mood
Too expensive to leave the shop
Too sick to let the routine stop
So the body turns inward to survive
Eating itself just to stay alive
So push the plate away
Let the hunger stay
The baker smiles, she doesn't see
The hollow space inside of me
Just starvation
In the perfect station
It smells so good in here
It smells so good