trigger warning: blood mention
wake up. lie in bed, for what could be five minutes, or could be hours on end. watch as the emails bounce back, and the calls cut out. ignore it.
don’t check the news. try and fail to forget about it. and instead, remember how it used to be. write sad poetry, and cry while you record it. rip open the wound, and watch the blood trickle on the floor. shamelessly.
lash out. because if you can just put a name on it; place the blame on anyone but yourself, it’ll be okay. won’t it?
work constantly. wake up at 5am. watch netflix on until three. don’t clean your room for weeks. let the clothes pile around you. let the old mugs and used teabags surround you. tell yourself that this is what success looks like.
don’t stop. not even for a moment. don’t let yourself enjoy the view for so much as a second. forget to eat. let the anxious, lightheaded feeling go straight to your head. and keep going. you’re ugly, and you’re lazy, and little girl, this is your punishment.
bury your head in the blankets at 2 in the morning, exhaustion making your eyes swim, and this time… let it take you. let it hold you in its arms, and sing you to sleep. because sadness like this takes its toll. and don’t try to fight it, when it swallows you whole.
As one might be able to tell from reading so much as the first line of this poem, I wrote it while I was in a very dark place. (And for the record, a place I am thankfully starting to come out of.) This is sort of the quarantine poem to end all quarantine poems, to be honest!
I’m definitely going to turn it into a spoken word piece at some point or other, but I’m still not sure. I’m still figuring things out right now, I’m still trying to understand what’s going on in my head, and in a lot of ways I feel like I’m eleven years old all over again, stuck at home and uncertain and alone, and spending definitely a little too much time on a screen, pretty much just throwing myself into writing. But there also a lot of really good things about that year, and reflecting on the past, and kind of reliving that sixth grade experience through much more mature eyes. Somewhere in the process of trying so hard to make this writing thing work out for me, I forgot why I fell in love with this in the first place–that long before anyone on the internet sort of cared about me, I was just a kid writing bad songs and fanfiction on her shitty PC, trying to sort through her feelings. I guess I’m just trying to find a silver lining in all of this. Even though it’s awful. But I guess I also have no choice but to make the best of it, if that makes sense. (Which is a whole process I will probably write about at some point, but now now.)
Are restrictions loosening in your area? How has quarantine been for you guys? If you feel like talking about it, I would, as always, love to know. ❤
Lots of love,