who left the milk out

the bread
is stale, hard
and crusty
in the unsealed
bag.
the plastic
twist lies on
the floor.
you have no
one to blame
but yourself.
same goes
for the milk
you left out
last night,
now warm
and jelled,
as sour as a
a farewell kiss
forever.
the uncorked
wine has lost it's
luster too,
dry and harsh,
making your
whole mouth
squeeze and pucker,
with only a
half of glass
poured.
you need someone
to yell at
you all day, it
seems, to keep
this place in order.