Blueberry Pie

Blueberry pie on the windowsill Cooling down like a little blue bruise I made it from a box mix And a feeling I could not use The kitchen light is yellow The spoon is in the sink I keep opening the oven Like it might tell me what I think And I know it sounds dramatic To be sad beside dessert But I have made a hobby Out of making sweetness hurt Blueberry pie Blue on my hands I keep getting older In a quiet house Blueberry pie Warm in my hands I wanted something simple I could understand And maybe I’m fine Maybe I’m trying Maybe I just needed Blueberry pie I used to think a kitchen Meant somebody would come home Now I make the whole thing messy Just to prove I’m not alone There’s flour on the counter There’s sugar on my sleeve There’s a version of my childhood That still believes in me And I know it isn’t magic I know comfort doesn’t cure But I’ll take the little sweetness When I cannot take much more Blueberry pie Blue on my hands I keep getting older In a quiet house Blueberry pie Warm in my hands I wanted something simple I could understand And maybe I’m fine Maybe I’m trying Maybe I just needed Blueberry pie I don’t need a revelation I don’t need a brand new life I just need a little window And a paper plate tonight I don’t need to call it healing I don’t need to make it wise I just need to sit here breathing With the blue still on my hands Blueberry pie Blue on my hands I keep getting older In a quiet house Blueberry pie Warm in my hands I wanted something simple I could understand And maybe I’m fine Maybe I’m trying Maybe I just needed Blueberry pie Blueberry pie On the windowsill I’m not better yet But I’m here still