There it lays,
my tear soaked
pillow case.

In clouds unseen
where they visit me
every night since thirteen

What am I to do
with no avenue to pursue
when they deny my inhibitions
and tell them they're forgiven?

I see what I can't change and
I can't change what I see

I want to want their vision
of tender, loving, harmony
but it feels like swallowing poison
treating my actions remorsefully.

I take each day
one at a time
unyielding to divulge
what comes to me as I lay
every night
on my tear soaked pillow case.

I feel the emptiness of a brain uninspired,
I have no desire to muse about anything.
And to make something out of nothing
is never the easiest.
Putting pencil to paper,
I drag out the nothing inside
And line by line
It dies.

I do not want to confine myself to a cubicle
I do not want to type my way through a day
I do not want to bite my nails, fearing I ‘d fail
I do not want to smoke my anxiety, on a Thursday
I do not want to miss sunrise, in traffic
I do not want to train a fake smile
I do not want to mingle, even when I’m single
I do not want to leave quarantine, even if you call it a syndrome
I do not want to jump into busy, I do not miss it
I do not want to forget how to value
I do not want to rush, I like the pause
I do not want to live by time, I want to control time
I do not want to consume a designated lunch, I want to make lunch matter
I do not want lockdown to end