I had ingredients laying around.

Items reaching the end of life expectancy.

Left over from previous recipes or visions that never turned out right.

Perfectly usable but inedible on its own.

Slightly stale but nothing the heat cannot fix.

Just disappointing left to rot away.

***

It does not matter anymore why they have not been consumed yet.

A failure on my part or on life.

Mold forming on exposed edges.

Maybe I forgot to use it in time.

Not feeding myself the way I should.

But that is now in the past.

***

In my hand I hold a knife.

It could destroy what I have even further.

Rend all meaning away down the drain.

Strip all that made it delicious into the garbage.

Hurt me in a way that does not make me bleed.

A horrific mash up of incompatible flavors fated for the dumpster.

***

Or I could take a chance.

Cut away the rot and save the good left.

Balance it in a way that nothing beautiful is lost.

Leftovers made into a tantalizing arrangement.

Poor circumstances improved by my own hand.

Chopped up dreams made used to make something beautiful.