pigeon coo’s echo outside the window
relentless repetition please stop,
grey skies, lacklustre rain
drip drop drips from the sky
like a tap not turned tight
enough
the kettle is screaming at me
fogs up the window
desperate, don’t look out there,
the forbidden fruit, sacred outdoors
sterilised sanitised inside, free me,
I long to ***** my feet
how can the world keep on turning
when we are all so still
does the passing of time matter
during this vast nothingness?
a cup of tea to calm my nerves
hot liquid chases down the fear
bubbling up in my throat but
it just crawls back, and settles
so quiet becomes the house
eternally occupied, no respite
heavier now, thankful for the sound
drowning out the silence, rain
like the white noise, grateful
the sound of breath has become
too much, all of us in mute,
in sound, in colour, in all
