i don’t grasp how time works
hours go so slow
months blur into years almost suddenly
maybe i’ll grow into this loneliness
maybe it'll drive me mad
like black mold
hell
i’m already mad
i’ve thought about you for 1,825 days, or something like that
i did the math

last night i suffered body aches
but not in the coronavirus way
i let someone new hold me
while the thought of you crushed me
it’s painful, hard to open up
most days, massive effort to leave home
the anxiety ridden world barely turns
still i struggle to keep up
i just get high and listen to the National
remember how i used to cry to you, about poetry?
and now everything is a memory
that i keep alive through bias and unwarranted feeling
none of it could ever make sense
i almost touched you in my fever dream last week
and i said i wouldn’t get ****** in