~ The Pantry ~

I’m so hungry 

But there’s never anything nourishing to chew on around here 

I need to clean out the pantry of my mouldy old thoughts 

So many canned concepts 

Stacked high up on my shelves 

They’ve been there for years 

Collecting as much dust as they do momentum in my head 

But I keep acquiring new recipes 

As I flick through colourful cookbooks 

Buying fresh ingredients from the supermarket of life 

In the hope that maybe I’ll develop my palate 

For some fresh edible perspective 

Only to find myself 

Unsatisfied with any new concoction 

Afraid to even taste it 

And so I keep reverting back to the pantry of old thought patterns 

A sky-high supply of bottled rumination 

Fermenting in the familiarity of my past traumas with all the triggers and trimmings 

Preserved with the fear of an unknown future 

I keep munching on jars of pickled dread 

Back inside the pantry of old thought patterns 

There’s never anything nourishing to chew on around here 

Just a large tray of regret 

That sits proudly next to an air-tight bag of painful memories 

With a packet of shame-filled secrets strategically hidden behind them 

Where no one can see 

Which I snack on late at night 

When the world has gone to sleep 

But I never sleep 

I get no relief 

I have so much to stew over 

More blame to chew over 

I keep defrosting frozen dreams 

Then throwing them back in the cold steel freezer that used to be warm hope 

An ice-cream container of pleasure sits melting in the corner 

Beckoning to be consumed 

But I have no appetite for the temporary 

Lost all cravings for the sensory 

Not interested in momentary 

Sugar highs 

Washed down with cups of carbonated lies 

I would much rather starve and die 

I’m hungry for something rich 

Something filling 

Something nutritious 

Something that feeds my spirit and my soul 

Something to satisfy me once and for all 

If only I could get near it 

And when I do, not fear it 

Something raw and organic to bite into 




Hanging ripe 

From the Tree of Life 

No cooking required 

Or boiling 

Or frying 

Or steaming 

Or braising 

Just a constant grazing 

On that which is whole and pure 

This is the only cure 

To a hunger as insatiable as mine 

And this I will not find 

Back inside the pantry of my old thought patterns 

There is never anything nourishing to chew on around here 

© Sahar's Mad World

Leave a comment