Purple Foil & Quarantine

I function in a haze, or malfunction, is this simply existing?

When days run into nights and nights stumble down rusted rails

Is this what you call quarantine

At 2 a.m. cars burn outside my window, but who is touching the wheel.

The silence breaks, shatters on the kitchen tile

I function in the darkness

Light mocks and taunts, light baits the weakness

I accomplish nothing, it’s all empty

The stainless steel is scratched

The walls are stained

A timid paintchip squanders its shame

Crumbs cowardly snuggle in crevices and seams

I function, or malfunction in the chaos.

Purple foil from dark chocolate whispers from under the couch

How long has it been there

Is it also Quarantined

Blurry screens, webbed thoughts

Find a minute, lose an idea

Please dim the mayhem

Nights are restless

Dreams aren’t dreams

Dreams are regrets, insecurities, manifestations of tachycardia

Daylight and dusk are masked with relief.

A cruel mirage

An elementary school recorder reminds me to cry

The broken nail and broken promise to eat a fruit invokes guilt

It’s been too long, never misses an opportunity

I function in a narrative

I’m building fiction

A broken and corrupted string

Empty parking lots,

tumbleweeds knotted in grief

I function for them

I write because it’s the only way for me to say what I really want to say. Also, because I can.