Waking up in a cold sweat
Three in the morning – body weak
Blood sugar levels plummeting
In my haze, I know I must feed
I creep into my kitchen
Damn, I should have gone grocery shopping
Barely any food in my house
And I can feel my life force dropping
But deep within my pantry walls
I find the last remaining loaf
As my eyes focus I notice
Sickly green fuzz has engulfed the bread
Breaking two stale slices from the bag
Peanut butter coats the myceteae
I’m disgusted, but desperate
In the end, it’s just a piece of bread
My insides are on fire
What have I done?
I succumb to hypoglycemia
I succumb