As much as I want to be alone
I know it's not good for me.
I can feel it
seeping into my bones
and it actually physically hurts
and I am left alone with my thoughts
but they are a disease.
They are an infection
and the medicine doesn't work.
They are poison
and I can't get it out of my system.
It is a disease
that I don't have the cure for.
It is the only disease
that can't be solved with quarantine.
It can't be fixed with sleep
and it can't be fixed with food
and I figure it can be cured with people
but I've been sick too long to know for sure.
This virus grows stronger with no one around
but how could I call out for help?
How could I be so selfish to make my problems theirs?
I'll just have to make do with what I've got
for the time being
and hope it doesn't get worse
and that it doesn't spread
to the people I care about.
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Thoughts and Things
PoetryA thing. A thing in which I write some poetry. I've never really written much poetry, so... yeah. Exciting. It can get spooky sometimes. (By spooky, I mean that it can get dark. Trigger warning in advance, just in case.) Tread lightly. I'm obviously...