Maybe this is how the world ends,
Not huddled together, holding hands,
as a meteor races towards us.
But quarantined separately in rooms,
as a virus eats you slowly from inside.

Maybe this is how the world ends,
Not from a single gunshot to your head,
as you revolt against bullies on streets.
But from a slow drowning in your guilt,
as a voice asks you why didn’t you?

Maybe this is how the world ends,
Not from a bomb exploding in the mall,
as you buy a new summer wardrobe.
But from a slow burn deep inside you,
as you ignore the haunted eyes around.

Maybe the world doesn’t end after all,
Not from guns, bombs or stray meteors,
as you wake up to sunny blue skies.
But how will you face yourself tomorrow,
with all this death festering inside?

I feel like I'm the only one
who really cares
about the pandemic.

I feel like I'm the only one
who is scared
to infect someone I love.

I feel like I'm the only one
who sees
that a storming is coming.

I feel like I'm the only one.

I miss wet rain on buses
I miss crowded subway stairs
I miss noisy streets in public
I miss breathing ocean air:

I miss walking in the snow
I miss snowmen building high
I miss concretes slushy flow
I miss children stepping by:

I miss eyes of pretty girls
I miss old men sitting too
I miss seeing squirrels creep
I miss streetlights switching hue:

I miss walking to and there
I miss waiting crosswalks tick
I miss coming home all wear'd
I miss sleeping after six:

I miss waking up at nine
I miss dreading morning days
I miss my recurring life
I miss living life again.

Turning in this day
Turning over in dismay
For here, as I lay,
Comforted in these sheets
A chill turns to a burning blaze
My mind trapped in a dizzying haze

Aching muscle and raspy tone
Weakness cripples every bone
Shallow comes each breath
That escapes my parched lips
To countless others it foretold death
Filmed in countless clips

But, not for I
Not in this day, not this time
Not in this peculiar rhyme
For here I shall not die

To recover
To grow stronger
Prepare for what may come
The war is not yet over
With hope, it won't be much longer
For this great disease we shall overcome.

- Jay M
June 3rd, 2021

(PHASE -1)
"Into the chaos I pummel, as the time gets tough,
The responsibilities I bore now bigger than my ego,
And I getting crushed under both.

Trying to breathe in,
Big gasps coming back empty,
No support or help...
Support being a fantasy as everyone's in the same boat.

"My flaws", mock me as it pushes me deeper,
Cutting me off from everyone I hold dear.
The more I try to fix things, the worse it gets,
Like a devil toying with my helplessness..."

(PHASE-2)
"No salvation, no outlet,
Like bubbles filled with intensely compressed agony...
I try to blow them away before they cloud my judgement,
Alas a bit too late, for the damage has been done,
The words that slipped down my tongue
have already struck like lightening,
Now there's no one remaining..."

(PHASE-3)
"Now that the bubbles have left,
I see them shine in reflection of the devil's eyes,
Oh, have Mercy! I have nothing left,
Just guilt, remorse, increasing ever so severely.
But like a child, the devil pops these bubbles
compressed with agony,
While I watch from a distance,
The chaos whispers: "It's only the beginning"... ~

Time

In more ways than one.
Some lives cut short.
And so many more
minutes rendered cold.

I haven't seen people I love
for longer than I really know.
Maybe I'm afraid to put a number
on the days squandered.

Could you weigh the hours?
At this point surely you could.
There are too many to not feel
the weight of them crashing down.

How do we justify what it cost
when disaster befell so many anyway?
A mask worn/a life saved.
Sure, of course, gladly.

Fear

What did it take, really?
For so long we sat
in front of a mirror with nothing to do;
did we notice anything?

Did we come out of the tunnel
the same as when we entered?
Do we even posses the capability
to know who we were?

Which would be more horrifying
in retrospect.
To know our past self's death?
Or to see not even catastrophe changed you?

If I ever see
those in my heart's eye again
will I be able to spend the time
in a way deserving of theirs?

Will I show the wait was worth it?
Will I recognize them and them me?
Do you gain anything from knowing the question
and not the answer?

Is there any way to make it back.
Is there any way to even slightly reclaim.
Is there hope?
Is there hope...?