Our world decided to reopen.
A deadly pandemic polarizing its people.
A dollar bill weighed against a heartbeat.
You’d be surprised what we value.
But what about me?
The inner alarm on a continuous loop.
Shouting in shame.
My plague has no cure.
“Isolation” and “shelter in place” are household terms
for those under the weight of depression.
We are jealous of the cardinal that sweeps past our window,
the elderly man who waves from the street.
Freedom.
To rise each day with an appreciation for life.
To be touched by another.
To fall in love with yourself and someone else.
But today, I cannot.
Today, my eyes stare out the window.
A celebration of “opening back up.”
One day, I wish to join them.
How those that are depressed feel during this pandemic. Maybe. Maybe just me?
