memories glide through mind space,feelings resurface in the heart, andrapture happens each time you see a stain.
The home cooked meals, prepared by a queen,are tasted with new relish; the best meals I’ve ever had.
sour bile rises after I’m done — I become bulimic,
anorexic to small degrees, preparing my body for
inevitable emptiness.
I gain 10 pounds. I feel sick about this.
maybe it’s the beer I drink every night —
I don’t remember a night I haven’t drank in the last month.This is troubling; how will I manage when I’m alone?
will I drink till I vomit; will I
discover sobriety away from familial pressures
will i cry in the night because it’s too hard to get up each morning
I’m prepared to live a minimalist lifestyle, prepared
to go vegan, or maybe just vegetarian
prepared to share a single room with another man (
neither homosexual) and read at a table without having to get up out of
fear of being
seen each time someone returns home.
maybe this will be the healthiest time in my life,
a time for growth in all things — after all, Micah
understands: he has similar issues i think.
we both like jazz and Bonnie “Prince” Billy
we understand time and IT and jesus we
know pain.
we create, are artists; we read and write, he
paints, I paint with words (or so I
try).
The truth is, I’m moving out soon. I
am scared; I
am excited; It
is too late to turn back.
Would I want to?
About the Creator
Shaun Stokes
College grad -- Literature and French major. Poet. Young writer trying to fulfill his passions. Onward?
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