Dinner That Broke Down

I bit into the soggy sandwich—

crust limp, a grease spot spreading,

sauce slick and congealed,

a mouthful of cold regret.

The smell was sour,

like the fridge had given up,

a stale weight pressing down

on appetite and hope.

I chewed slow,

choking on hunger and disappointment,

a meal undone by neglect,

forgotten in the back, left to rot.

Dinner broke down,

and I broke a little too.