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.
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.
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.
Raw brilliance.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you're wallowing - but this poem is amazing. Whoa.
ReplyDeletePain makes us brilliant and you are no exception Lora. I truly hope the pain will become more tolerable in time...If I say that everything happens for a reason, then you'll probably throw a pillow my way...but give it a thought though.
ReplyDeleteIt is brave of you to share that with us. I ditto the others; it's a breathtaking poem.
ReplyDeleteOh Lora, I am so, so, so sorry you are going through this right now, but I have so much respect for that difficult decision, because it sounds like it's one that needed to be made. And your poem is incredibly brave and beautiful. I hope it eased your pain some
ReplyDeleteOh, Lora! ((HUGS)) Creativity is not gone...it's growing. You have been feeding it for so long, and now it needs a little time in the dark to sprout its new wings. You will rise from this thing, stronger and more beautiful than ever. Thank you for sharing it with us. It's stunning.
ReplyDelete"now it needs a little time in the dark to sprout its new wings."
DeleteI agree with you 100%! What a wonderful way to put it. So very true... creativity's ebb and flow.
Oh Lora, I'm so sorry. This must be so hard. I wish you the best of luck and I'll keep you in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteThank you all for the solidarity (and compliments on the poem, though it did feel kind of rather like a word vomit).
ReplyDeleteIt made me feel so much better, though, telling you my story, even just part of it. Thank you for letting me feel connected to you across all the blank spaces and betweens.
*Hugs* to ALL OF YOU!! My lovely, wonderful fellow writers and good friends.
--Lora
O Lora, most EVERYTHING I write feels like word vomit. It's not a bad track to be on, I think. I love you! And I loved re-reading this. It's beautiful. And you're amazing, you know. *hugs* backatcha
DeleteLora dearest, whether you like it or not...I kinda consider you my blogging mentor because you offered me the first blog award and because of that, I'd kindly ask you, if you have the time and disposition, to offer me a bit of advice regarding my most recent blog post. Kisses :).
ReplyDeleteYou do know that you are very dear to me :)?!! Thank you :).
ReplyDeleteLora just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you. I hope you are taking some time for yourself. The poem is beautiful and raw brought tears to my eyes. I could feel your pain through it. Your creativity is definitely not gone. Love ya girl! You know where to find me if you need me:)
ReplyDelete