Recipe of the Heart

There are a lot of things I really want to say. I hope you hear them as suggestions instead of demands, I'm not trying to beat this into you, I only want to gently fold in these ideas into your doughy mind in hopes you will see what I knead out of this relationship.
When you act all creamy and suave you think its sweet but it makes me feel crummy. You say that you weren't heated but I could tell you weren't chill, you say its 'cause I act so spicy but its just my personality and you just aren't seasoned to it yet. Our arguments just stir me up, I don't know what to do, can we add a little patience or am I just spoiling things again? What happened to those sweet days, when I was your honey, you relished the time we spent together, we would jam all night and rise in the afternoon? But now we are just beaten whites, spoiled rotten, and shellfish only caring for ourselves. I just ask myself sometimes, when I'm all dry and crumbly will you still knead me, or will our love grow cold? I don't think our love is healthy. Peeeas just listen to me for a second, I don't want to cut you out of my life, I just think we knead some air. I think you are feeling stifled, you need some room to rise, you think I'm confining you, and that's totally fine. Oh, you say our course is done? I see. Say cheese, its our last picture, I will remember you always, your love was like a dessert, too much made my stomach hurt. But sweetie, since your finished, there's one more thing I'd like to add, you really are a chicken for giving up on us, and honey your a pig for always wanting more, you sure are a sloppy Joe, and I'm over you. So like the lemon in my glass, it was only a garnish, now that you're used up, its time for the garbage. Next time I hope to find a real man, because there is not substitute for that.