I Want To Make You Breakfast, Not Fix You
You walk into my place with that look that says brace for impact
hope it is just coffee, not a breakdown, not a fight
You start listing all the shit that went wrong this week
like I am your boss, your doctor, your judge
under this cheap kitchen light
You talk faster than the kettle boils
eyes on the floor
waiting for me to hit you with ten steps and a color coded plan
I crack eggs instead, slide bread in the toaster
say “sit your ass down, ” you are not a project
you are just a worn out human who ran.
You tell me your ex said you were needy
your parents said dramatic
your last therapist said “unpack that on your own time
” You half joke that anyone who stays more than three months earns a medal or a warning sign
I hand you a plate that is way too full
shove a mug into your shaking fingers
tell you this morning is off the clock for your crime
If you want advice I can give it
though I screw up daily, if you want quiet
we can just chew and let the silence climb.
I am not here to sand down every rough edge till you look good on a brochure
I am not your rehab arc, your makeover story
your proof that love is the cure, I like you tired
messy, half done
still figuring out why your hands shake when you feel insecure.
I want to make you breakfast, not fix you, pour coffee
not save your soul
You do not have to earn the scrambled eggs by playing a perfect role
Sit in my hoodie with your hair all wrecked and your eyes all shot and your voice off key
You are not my homework, you are my person
and feeding you is enough today for me.
You start to cry over toast, which feels stupid to you
you say sorry three times
like emotions are spills you should mop
I say fuck that, tears are salt, let them fall
let them drop
You tell me the worst stories between bites
the ones that still taste like metal when the spinning won’t stop
I do not make a speech or a promise I cannot keep
I just listen, refill your plate
and let the heavy stuff flop.
There is a difference between holding someone while they stitch themselves back and turning them into a craft on your shelf
I will not pin your pain up as some trophy
I will not treat your past as a reflection on my own polished self
You get to be a whole person here
not a fixer-upper I took on for my health.
I want to make you breakfast, not fix you, pour coffee
not save your soul
You do not have to earn the scrambled eggs by playing a perfect role
Sit in my hoodie with your hair all wrecked and your eyes all shot and your voice off key
You are not my homework, you are my person
and feeding you is enough today for me.
One day you might outgrow me
might move to a city with better transit and less mold and more sun
You might meet someone who knows how to budget and stretch and wakes up early and actually enjoys a run
I hope they make you breakfast too
not as a prize for staying clean or calm
just as a small warm start
I hope you never again sit at a table where you feel like a case study instead of a beating heart.
I want to make you breakfast, not fix you
hand you a fork and a safe place to fall apart
You are allowed to show up half built, half hopeful
full of weird cravings and an aching heart
We can talk about healing while the toast burns slightly and the eggs stick to the pan like your past to your mind
Or we can just eat in quiet, two wrecks sharing crumbs
and leave the bullshit behind.
If you ever forget your worth and start listing flaws before you knock on my door
Remember this kitchen, this table
this first cup of coffee
and know you do not need fixing to sit here once more.