Even the number glaring back at me doesn’t stop me.

I continue to chew, swallow, and digest

all the sorrows that life may bring me.

The taste puts me on a high;

releases me from the pain (for a few minutes, anyway.)

Of course, after all the taste is gone,

I’m left feeling even worse than ever.

But what does it matter?

I still need a few minutes of peace every once in awhile,

and my pantry is my sanctuary.