What is the point of me surviving
if you are going to treat me like I died.
I want to cherish each hard earned moment,
you turn off your phones and pretend to hide.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
What is the point of me surviving
if you are going to treat me like I died.
I want to cherish each hard earned moment,
you turn off your phones and pretend to hide.
The animal walks around it’s home
in view of everyone.
Everyone comes to gawk and stare.
They feel safe by the glass,
and are joyous as it moves about.
But when the animal gets too close
to the edge of it’s exhibit
everyone takes a step back,
They think the animal is dangerous.
But it’s not going to hurt them.
I’m not going to hurt them.
I can’t hurt them anymore.
But yet I am still an exhibit
Better not get too close.
I had the coronavirus.
I could have fucking died.
But I didn’t. I survived.
Just for everyone to
ignore me and
to treat me like I did.
What they tell you when you have coronoavirus
is that you must isolate for 10 days.
What they don’t tell you when you have coronavirus
is that everyone else will leave you in isolation
long after you recover.
What I think:
I had the virus.
I could have died.
What they think:
You had the virus.
You could still make me die.
My heart says
” He’s the one ,
He’s the one”
My brain says
“Don’t be dumb,
don’t be dumb”
I feel like a balloon released to the wind,
soaring, floating- I’m surviving on my own.
I see the world below me,
and all the wonders and happiness around me.
I wonder If I will find the ground again
and find that happiness too.
But at times, I feel out of control.
The wind moves me, I go along
thinking there are so many things to see
but It feels like I am reaching new heights
higher, higher and further from the dream below.
I want to be grounded.
I want to be tethered to something in this world
that gives my existence a purpose.
I’m too high now. No one can reach my string
and pull me back to earth.
So I’ll keep floating until I pop from
too many changes in atmospheric pressure
and when I finally return to the ground,
all that will be left is broken remains.
It gets old experiencing
only three feelings:
depressed, anxious, and lonely.
Just for once, I’d like to add
new feelings to
my repertoire
such as feeling loved.
I am not an old lady
but I probably will be
by the time you ask me out.
It’s weird when your coworkers
around a few years older
and words have different
meanings to you over time.
For example, commitment
to them means they want a ring
but I just want a relationship.