Chicken Chowmein

I feel lucky to live untouched. The net of plastic keeps me safe. My days are happy for a few days until the cook breaks my home apart. It hurts more when one knows that she is going to be boiled. The heat tears my skin. The color of my blood changes the water. It puffs up. The bubbles are increasing with each shed of fire. When I am about to melt, the shifting is done.