May 22
poem challenge: Go


I just want to go home.
It's not the home your thinking of...
My home is my life.
I want my life back in my own arms.

I want my life beside me,
holding me hand,
face unmasked and hand ungloved.

Closer to me,
not hanging out of reach...
My arms are only so long
they can't reach six feet.

For my birthday
I just wanted something returned.
Something that should already be mine.
Something that was stolen from me.

My life is not something I personified
in my poems because I thought I was my life.
Now I realize corona hasn't stolen my life.
It has stolen me.

What price would I pay to get myself back?