Writing

every night i lie in Bed

and wonder what you Think about -

am i the Dream that’s in your head

or are you fast asleep?

There was this girl

With eyes the color

Of the sky that fills

Your childhood memories

She had dirty blond hair

Always in a braid

A braid that held more flowers

Then cherry blossom trees

Part One: “Of the People”

Let a symphony of voices form a cacophony so loud

God themselves won’t be able to ignore our 

grief, our

sorrow; the shattered fragments of our hearts

Stuck in my head

The lyrics go round and round.

Unstoppable, insurmountable

A cacophony of sound.

They won’t go away

And with each repitition

I can feel my brain exploding

Like nuclear fission.

Nighttime hits like a truck. Sleep is far from your grasp, and the skin under your eyes wilt.

Nearly 5.2 billion people use the internet daily, whether for work, school, communication, or entertainment. 

We were isolated; quarantined. The social strain was… immeasurable.