QUARANTINE DAY 6—
by Michelle Awad
I have scratched all the polish
off my nails.
I’m biting them again.
You stare at your phone
and show me
the six-hundredth meme,
and I smile
weakly.
I stare at my computer
screen.
For the first time in over
a year, I write poetry
I have no
intention
of you ever seeing.
I imagine
I feel hungry but cannot be
bothered to eat
the same way
you don’t think about
having *** with me.
Numbly.
Absentmindedly.
Honestly.
You still ask for a kiss
when you have done
a good job.
I thank you for making
lunch again (kiss) I thank you
for bringing me
my charging cable (kiss) I
thank you
because you love me (kiss) you
love me (kiss) and
I feel
guilty
that it doesn’t
seem enough
lately.
Stay inside, they said,
it’s safer, they said.
What a load a ****
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC
QUARANTINE DAY 6—
by Michelle Awad
I have scratched all the polish
off my nails.
I’m biting them again.
You stare at your phone
and show me
the six-hundredth meme,
and I smile
weakly.
I stare at my computer
screen.
For the first time in over
a year, I write poetry
I have no
intention
of you ever seeing.
I imagine
I feel hungry but cannot be
bothered to eat
the same way
you don’t think about
having *** with me.
Numbly.
Absentmindedly.
Honestly.
You still ask for a kiss
when you have done
a good job.
I thank you for making
lunch again (kiss) I thank you
for bringing me
my charging cable (kiss) I
thank you
because you love me (kiss) you
love me (kiss) and
I feel
guilty
that it doesn’t
seem enough
lately.
Stay inside, they said,
it’s safer, they said.
What a load a ****