You’ve left me with a square-ish space
These four walls and hours baked
With horns, insults, demands pounding through.
The drywall can’t hold back the swell
So my space shrinks and time retells
The same stories of trippy, sleepless, broken nights.
Squished and squished and cut down some more
To fit your size, should I go out the door
Not daring to protect my face, my heart,
My lungs that cry to breathe apart
From the taunts that follow masks or medicine.
God forbid that we should be free
To live in peace or quiet or safety
That we should learn from what has kept us whole so far –
So scream and pollute and tear from me
My flags, my stoop, my grocery
And call it your freedom, duly crowned.
Serial Outlet 
I’m sorry you have had to deal with all the negativity the past couple weeks. To help cheer you up, check out James Gordon’s new song, Crybaby Caravan.
Thanks, I hadn’t read the lyrics to that one yet!
Deeply affecting poem.
The walls seem to be shrinking and swelling at once in this abode. Brings to my mind Alice and her trial in Wonderland when she drinks the potion and grows too large for the White Rabbit’s house, her limbs splayed and sticking out of windows, her head bumping the ceiling.
Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you for visiting! I am glad you enjoyed it 🙂