Walnut MuffinA Poem by Katie MarieShort story/poem based around love and cynecism.Walnut Muffins I don’t want your love, you know that. I told you once, remember? We were drinking coffee, and you were bitter because all the walnut muffins had sold out. You told me you loved them, you told me everything you love. Walnut muffins, orange rind. Friendship bracelets, the smell of leather but not the look. The colour red, and big red chewing gum. Your blue shirt with the wine stain on the chest. That your dad told you he had a beard because he thought he had an ugly chin. The beach but not the ocean, the gap in your front teeth, and me. I told you to love those things, because I liked how sincere you looked when you talked about them. But I told you not to love me. I wasn’t a taste, or a possession, or a view. I was a girl, and you were a boy. You smelt like a bakery and I smelt like a tobacconist. You were sweet, I was sour. You told me you loved me. And I told you everything I loved, but you weren’t one of them. I didn’t want you to love me, because you would love me like that muffin and have me everyday. And one day, we might be sitting there drinking coffee, and you might tell me how you want a blueberry muffin, and I’ll know that things change. © 2013 Katie MarieAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorKatie MarieACT, ACT, AustraliaAboutI’m Katie. I hate my name, it sounds like the name of a toothless hillbilly. I’m eighteen. I’m kind of an a*****e because I love too much and care about very little. I honestly have .. more..Writing
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