April

Zuwena

Poetry,
School Closure Stories

Unschool Club

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am left alone with my thoughts

I feel free, I think a lot 

I break down 

Because the bodies are resurrecting 

The grave wasn’t dug deep enough 

I cry myself to sleep 

A comfort of familiarity 

 

But then I get used to it 

This new reality of ours 

I learn to keep myself busy 

From the things that haunt me 

There is no concept of time 

The mournings are fleeting 

 

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