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.