Butter

We're all slicing slowly away at our lives,
And our loves,
Like snipping off small slices of butter with a pair of kitchen scissors. 
If you place the butter in a pan, It'll quickly melt away, 
Almost like losing a friend. 
If you mix it in with a bunch of other ingredient you almost can't see it's soft yellow tint, 
Almost like the jumbled heart of an over-scheduled bestie.
But you can't keep it sitting in the fridge forever, then what's the point? 
I've learned to use things with care, but sometimes it all gets out of hand and I don't know how to feel.
Something tells me I've been slicing away all to steadily.
I need to slow my pace and let thing come and go as they will,
But this time, I must remember to enjoy it.