I can’t breathe,
It’s allergy season,
A yearly occurrence
Yet still a fear arises,
With burning breath caught mid chest,
My mind fears another pathogen near,
That could further take my breath,
My life
Away
Tag: Fear
Precious Lasts
There is a loneliness
That resides in our close quarters,
An unspoken sadness,
An anger,
About the fear we speak of
But dare not name,
We are all knowingly closer to death,
And on the precipice, it is terrifying,
To see each other,
And wonder how long we have,
Before the unknown swallows again,
Before our hellos are really goodbyes,
The moments of nothing
Seem wasted,
And yet are our precious lasts,
To be with and be here in
I Beg it Doesn’t Go
I want to comfort you,
With words that I fight back,
Because they would be lies,
In honesty,
I don’t know,
I don’t know how this will all work out,
If plans will be dashed,
If,
When sickness will hit us,
If death will miss us,
There is so much,
I do not know,
So much you should not have
To be weary of,
To be aware of,
All I know to do,
Is hold you as close
As I possibly can,
And pray away the virus,
Which your way,
I beg it doesn’t go.
Unleashed
Time it now seems to tick differently,
Though the hands nor numbers have changed,
It seems faster,
More pressing,
Each tock,
For the situation is more dire now,
As if we weren’t always evading the inevitable end,
As if death is only now an option,
We are afraid of this reminder,
For now it is constant,
Encroaching like this very plague,
On all aspects of our lives,
Waking in disbelief that this is reality,
Then try to move through the day that continues to age despite you,
And everything seems a pointless distraction from the fact that this is not normal,
This hovering of fear,
Fear of contagion,
Fear of loss,
Fear of the unknowns,
Of a world held hostage by this virus.
Isolate,
Don’t congregate,
Keep the spread under–
Control has never been had,
And that is our greatest fear,
That no grip will gain hold of this
Unleashed Pandemic,
There Will Be Change
The door is open,
Something I’ve longed for,
For so long,
And still my foot hesitates,
My leg quivers,
My body shivers
of the other side,
Possibilities,
Good or bad,
A divergence from what is already had,
But whether or not I move through,
I will still be moving,
There will still be difference,
This is a conveyer belt life,
Nothing ever remains,
Whether or not you change tracks,
There will still be change
For Me
He played a song
For me,
A song he said was mine,
Written surely
For me,
He confessed,
And I saw in his eyes a tenderness,
I had not seen before,
That read of love, and hurt,
and fear,
That said he had before wept tears,
And that those had been for me,
Over me too.
She of Letters 