That feeling,
It hangs around in your soul like old spaghetti boling on the hob
Just
Pressing down on your stomach until it gives in and does that weird flip thing that makes you feel really rather nauseous.
It sits heavy in your gut, reminiscent of the chocolate pudding you made for dessert and now really wish you hadn't eaten.
It's the feeling that maybe boiling water and skin don't mix so well.
Third degree burns aren't convenient, but the plastic bags the nurses have packaged your hands in make you look a fool.
You can't pick anything up.
Perhaps it could be that you've made too much again, so you organise an impromptu dinner party.
As you serve, friends keep asking you what happened to your hands, but you know they don't really care. They just show pity for the sake of it.
Instead you load more and more food onto less and less plates, covering the tasteless failure you seem to have conjured up in sauce. At least that should mask the obvious taste of disappointment.
That feeling...
We'll call it heartburn. All for the sake of a dressed up food metaphor.
You know, I've half forgotten what all of these mean...
