Junkyard 4 Week 9

In the kitchen, marshmallows cover semi-sweet chocolate,
melting and then crisping in the microwave. They taste
like seventh grade, and too many shoes taking up Halloween
candy space in the back of your closet. Or your mother,
finding you huddled, reading, popping M&Ms like
your grandmother's depression medication. It's that moment,
when you smell a book and it's the 90s and you're eight
and someone gives you a folded card with some conversation
heart message. But someone thinks it's a video game
and stabs you in the arm. Don't die yet. Four lives down.