#Quarantine Blues
A deep blue shadow hovers over this room, I haven't seen the sky for days, the air has gone stale and turned in on itself. I try to read a book, one hundred years of solitude, how ironic, I have been in solitary for more than a hundred years, I think. I have always been a lonely child. My head thrums with a dull headache, from lack of sleep, or too much of sleep, or that ancient sadness that runs like a river somewhere deep inside my head. I count up old lovers, wonder what they are doing now. I count how much I have loved and have been loved, measure love out sad spoonfuls. Not enough, it's never enough, the headache thrums inside my head, I wish I was dead, I end up writing pathetic letters like this instead. I wish I could hold time between my fingers like a child.
