Chocolate disappointment

The sun is spinning

as I

step out the front door.

My hair.

greasy.

Like slivers of dried fruit,

it falls.

Slowly,

I walk.

My weight

is light, and my chest

open.

And,

the middle of my body,

pulling me

like a puppet.

I run,

to him.

I run.

my feet,

punctured,

stained,

from the small rocks

that penetrate my soles.

I

crack his door.

My body,

coiling,

as I see,

boxes of cookie wrappers,

2 pints of ice cream, spoons of

compulsively

devoured

food.

A pattern.

Why didn’t he reach for me,

Instead?

His mouth smeared with

chocolate and

disappointment.

His eyes apologize.

Like his

promise

to me,

I break.

He

did

it again.

My chest drops

into my feet.

I thought the last time was

the last time.