Cake is the painkiller

The nurse asked if I needed painkillers, I didn’t need any, so I said no.
But I should have asked for some cake.
Because, seriously, I wouldn’t mind a slice of cake.
And it doesn’t have to be a big slice.
A small one would do.
I really just want that first fork of it, taste it, feel it.
Everything after that is just gastronomic dry humping and pushing rope.
That’s how the senses work, you know.
Too much of something, and you desensitize to it.
If anyone that worked with feeling dumb after every stupid injury I cause myself.