Raisin Bran Crunch

In my own type of silent rebellion today,
I pulled out the box you labeled "your cereal".

I don't even like raisins, but I don't care.

And as I poured out those crunchy flakes into my own bowl,
I felt the exhilarating sense of freedom,
If we didn't have milk, I would eat it with my bare hands.
This bowl of cereal is one boundary I can overstep,
something I can do to make you uncomfortable.
And now there's nothing you can do about it.
Some deep part of me hopes that you get angry over this,
or have any type of reaction at all.
And as I chew the flakes slowly in my mouth,
alone in our living room,
I can't help but feel more uncomfortable than I have felt before.