A Kitchen Without a Woman

Me and my woman had a fight I feel like i was knocked out but she only took flight She left in haste without a hug or a peck A littered kitchen was my first reality check The dirty dishes are now screaming at me The leftovers are whispering “you haven’t ate me” I tip-toe around crumbs and spills Like the kitchen was a deadly mine field The slippery floor was braced to catch me if I fall Utensils misplaced, a cup where there should have been a bowl It is getting sticky in the hands and under my feet This cookhouse used to smell nice and used to look neat Reaching out for the mop is too acrobatic Fitting out an apron the wrong-side out, no worries I turned into a bookworm of manuals just to get the cooker hissing The kitchen can be a jigsaw puzzle, when a woman is missing The meals are getting burnt right under my nose My hands are too few to keep ovens opened or closed Cooking is like a battlefield in a smokey Kitchen I guess fingers burn first, after a heart is broken I have a burnt finger, could a fried arm be next Let me save the rest of them for typing an apology text If my kitchen is unstable without her touch My heart will be rubble without her love