The Cake in the Fridge for my son’s birthday (but it knows what it’s doing) I baked it with love, rich cocoa and flair, Frosted with swirls like clouds made of care. My boy turned one year older with candles and glee— But that cake… it was never just for he. It sits in the fridge with a smug little grin, “Come now,” it whispers, “let’s just begin.” I pass by for coffee, it calls out my name, This isn’t dessert—it’s a mind game. It knows I am watching, it knows I am torn, Between goals hard-won and cravings reborn. Each slice like a dare, a siren’s sweet song, That fridge has held it way too long. I reason. I bargain. I shut the door fast. “This isn’t forever,” I tell it. “You'll pass.” I think of my progress, my why, my fight— But that cake shines like sin in refrigerator light. I’m not made of steel, but I’m tougher today. I’ll wait out the frosting, let time eat away. One more day, then the fork won’t be drawn— I’ll win this war... and that cake will be gone.

Posted by Cheryl_F at 2025-07-09 23:17:07 UTC