Why?

[brynmawr1]

Why?

like the first day of school
like the first day of summer
like a pull on a slot machine
like a newly found recipe
like a gift exquisitely wrapped
like the first chapter
like a rising knot of sourdough
like a chance taken
like the first kiss
like a new born, purple faced and crying
like the peony stems my wife carefully stowed
Why can’t I be loved
                        for what I might become?

[dukealien]

Why?

like the first day of school
like the first day of summer
like a pull on a slot machine perhaps "like one pull," breaking the theme slightly with a threat of addiction
like a newly found recipe
like a gift exquisitely wrapped
like the first chapter  Nice release of tension from the last, long line
like a rising knot of sourdough  not just any dough - a little caution with the promise, if only in name
like a chance taken
like the first kiss
like a new born, purple faced and crying perhaps "newborn" and "purple-faced"
like the peony stems my wife carefully stowed  again building tension with the longer lines
Why can’t I be loved  with the line break, perhaps "Why can I not be loved"
                        for what I might become?

Suggestions above.  Good theme, well executed; in basic critique, suggestions not to be taken too seriously.

Commenting personally and ultra vires from critique, (1) the promise of school's first day was lost on me; diagnosis: anti-social
and (2), I'm reminded of the magnificent final couplet of similes in Wilbur's " For C. " which is only a list of four. (But what a kicker!)

Edit:  link doesn't seem to work from inside the Pen.  It is 

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171779

and the couplet (about love growing and deepening over time) is

...
Like a good fiddle, like the rose’s scent,
Like a rose window or the firmament.

With that in mind (back to proper critique) perhaps one out of four in your poem could be an "or" .

[Deor Ana Log]

Why?

like the first day of school
like the first day of summer
like a pull on a slot machine
like a newly found recipe
like a gift exquisitely wrapped
like the first chapter
like a rising knot of sourdough
like a chance taken
like the first kiss
like a new born, purple faced and crying
like the peony stems my wife carefully stowed
Why can’t I be loved
                        for what I might become?

Interesting usage of the words "like a". Due to it's short length, every word becomes expertly kept in, which is great. Consider adding another stanza with similar composition, to add context and death.