messy kitchen heart

You got this bistro in Your chest with chefs who left (years ago)

I'll try and make a bigger mess.

i'll cook and bake and heat up shit You had on low for quite a bit i'll try to balance slippy floors while slamming squeaky wooden doors we'll have a feast, dinner for all the mess i made You can ignore

like a kitchen after use i'll leave Your heart without a bruise my parents taught me this, quite well to clean up after my own hell

oh, this made-for-cooking, chest-like pit.

I'll leave it better than I found it. (a promise)