My apartment protects and suffocates me.
My mask protects my face and mutes my self-expression.
The isolation keeps me safe physically but frail mentally.
My distance keeps away vulnerable people and our shared humanity.
My hand-washing cleanses me of germs and washes away my self-assurances.
My television numbs the spiraling thoughts and the comforts of my daydreams.
More and more I want to scream. More and more my hand touches a pen and freezes.
More and more my anxieties creep from the corners. More and more they tower over me.
More and more I see the damages tear at me. More and more I see them hurt me a tad less.
More and more I see my anxieties in a harsh, new light. More and more I see the light illuminating the paths around them, even by only a few steps.