Stressed Spelled Backwards is Desserts

When a website asks me
to accept all cookies,
I say hell no,
because there are only
chocolate chip in my heart. 

as I masochistically type your name 
into the search bar at the top of the page,
I want to erase you from my memory,
but my browser catches your cookies,
and I don't even know what those cookies are.

Buddha (may or may not have controversial) 
once said, 
“Holding onto anger 
is like drinking poison 
and expecting the other person to die.”
 
the cookies from the jar?
the cookies from my mind?
Cookies never ever tease me.
Cookies never let me down.
Even if burnt or stale.