Some of the Skinny, Anyway

What's that? You don't know where, how,
why I dried up,
leaving tweeting, avatars, Gravatars, WIP
madness love and check-ins all
behind? Story of my year, this leaving.

I'm single now.

Well, (soon) not yet officially, mentally but
reeling with the state of it,
with the weight & rate of living it,
a life unhooked from another human being--
no judgement, please, please, I can't take that right now--
& how that unhooking makes
a hook-sized hole, an un-
doing.

Gained 7 lbs in 2 weeks, lost 5 in 1,
body wishing for a different addiction,
mind refusing. Sugar sugar, give me speed & clarity & flight. Sleep
is near & far, dream-chalked deep, & in
between it all a scurry
of deeper doubts I can't
begin to enumerate, much less name.

*Hugs* *Love* *Here for you!!* *Proud of you...*
Thanks, I say, & mean it,
but meanwhile, the creativity's
gone (even this form's gone chameleon, (can you guess it?
give you a hint)) heavy from too much sex abuse:
dreaming it, therapy's sift & churn, WIP's big SECRET,
oh, & the dayjob: Life Books (plodding through the pasts
of CPS kids'll sometimes knock
the lifelove out of you).

Just married
7 years with half of that time spent
apart: deployments, TDYs, MFAs,
with church & family the magnetic manacles.

So what's so different now?
Unhooking still hurts, though it was
not you
who asked for it but
I.

I. I. I. Selfish? Scared? Mistake?
How many bites does it take to get to the center
of this spinning
control-less? Where's
the crystal clear?
How many times can I put my finger down my throat?
How many hours will I lie awake
without the slightest hint of
dreaming?

Run a hand down my skin,
stomach,
breathe in.
Expand.
Out.
Contract.

Repeat . . .

So that's what up, & feel
free (shouldn't we all be)
to not worry too much,
if you please.