Transcription:

Is anyone else sleeping badly–

sleeping badly

like fever dreams

and not-quite-nightmares

and somebody else’s body

and somebody else’s brain

Like maybe it’s already gotten to you?

The virus, I mean.

Or maybe I mean not the virus–

a different beast–

one that makes you lonely

and indifferent

and not-quite-you-even-though-it’s-you

like you don’t watch reality tv

but now you do

and maybe you even like it

maybe because there’s no one else

so there’s no drama

except on tv–and you crave it

like an addict going through withdrawal

you hate who this virus-infected person–

the person now living in your body

the one who now pretends to

“have hobbies” and “enjoy running”

But

you are grateful

because without hobbies and running

your brain would short-circuit:

it needs it’s fix.

it needs people.

you didn’t know how desperate–

how god-awful, kill-me-without-you desperate

it would be every. day.

No, no.

Every hour. No: minute.

minute.

your friends without the other virus–

the virus that makes you not you–

are happy.

“I should be happy,” you say

but it is not your mouth

because even without the virus–

you wouldn’t be–

I wouldn’t be.

I, who goes to the store after being home alone for two hours because I need human interaction

I, who calls “just to say hi”

I, who begs for attention

I, who doesn’t need this virus–

the real virus or the other virus to feel so:

I feel so.

every damn time I am alone virus or no.

Is anybody else sleeping badly–

sleeping badly

like my bed is empty

and there’s too     much     space

and this will never end.