On Living Alone During A Pandemic

You will wake up in the morning 

And forget to remember you have no place to be

You will roll over and starfish on your mattress

You will remember how much you hate this mattress

Some days you will dance 

in your empty living room

open all the windows

thank the sun for not being too tired 

to stay for dinner. 

Other days you will dead bolt your doors

sink into walls

you will fill your empty bed 

with the few honest bits of yourself you can muster.

You will hopscotch between these days 

until you cannot tell the difference. 

When you are falling asleep 

under the creaky fan and the blaring lights from the liquor store across the street

do not think about the boys 

who turned your heart

into skipping music boxes.

Do not think about the men 

others say you keep missing.

Do not wonder why you have no one to quarantine with 

Wonder why it has taken you so long to carve a shelter from your own ribs

Remember you are never too late to build something new

Take up the practice of talking to yourself.

Learn to let your own voice boom.

Learn to love the sound.

Learn to sing along to the echo of your footsteps on kitchen tile,

to the screaming kettle 

to the simple magic of this indoor life

that maybe, just maybe, 

exists only this once. 

So, light every good candle you have 

Especially the expensive ones you were saving for rainy days

Decide for good, that joy is the last thing you will stockpile 

cook all the curry you want

steal the sheets

drop the dishes

cry in the shower

Feel the pendulum swing from grateful to lonely in an instant

Let it swing 

Let yourself be human in your own home

Remember this curse becomes a gift in a single breathe.

Remember, 

you have no one 

to apologize to.