tough cookies

TW: This story contains themes of mental health and self-harm. Reader discretion is advised.

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I've got that tough love,

The love from the wooden spoon

We use to bake the cookies you throw into the air when the world isn't nice to you.

I've got that hard-touch love

Where my rough hands flick your ear

Until your eyes turn to mine long enough for you to stop trying to hurt yourself.

I've got that older-than-I-am love

It's rarer because we're losing it

And in today's remembrance for the tough ol' Anzac biscuits,

We should nibble close together, every small thought

Until it is gone, devoured and forgotten.

So we can be right now,

In the moment of my fresh-out-the-oven,

Tough-cookie love.

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