It’s not like I had a choice,
but my fasting continues.
Giving up for a spell
the **** that greases my mind,
the love that lets me sleep,
the spark that ignites me.
I’ll admit,
it’s probably for the best.
It’s like they say,
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

However,
here I am
awake
when I should be quietly slumbering
tucked comfortably into my head.
Instead I face
what will eventually come,
the theme of my youth
abruptly wrenched from me.

No one wants to be dependent,
but I am addicted,
confined to a cage
of my own construction.
A cage with comfy chairs
and all the confections
I need
to occupy my machine.
I’ll scuttle back there and
this particular fast will end soon enough
but I feel the end creeping up.
Its only day four,
and things are getting pretty weird.