On Leaving Home

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?