I shove it into my mouth, disregarding what it is, mash it with my teeth so I can swallow as fast as I can.
I just want to fill the emptiness, fill the loneliness, fill the absence with something, anything.
Open the fridge again grab the first thing I see, drink it down, wash away my shame, glad that no one is home to watch. Secretive, silent, stealthy.
Sugar, comfort food, addiction, quantity.
More, more, more till it won't fit.
Sit in shame, sit in discomfort, something to take place of the mental pain. Which is worse?
Go lie down, want to fall asleep to make the discomfort go away, but my stomach is too full. I feel gross. I want to throw up, but I can't muster the effort.
Finally fall asleep, only to wake up with a discomforting reminder that turns into a chronic problem.
Years of stomach aches, trying to eat my loneliness one morsel at a time, but it never seems to run out.
Trying to find another way.
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