Wet Sand

Wet sand cakes my legs, a briny armor
earned from drowning in a sea

hopeful gold rimmed violets destroyed, weeks of stifled blues
meaningless plans shredded, tearstained shards drift to my feet

chained to the sheets, the gasps as I wail
but COVID is deaf to effervescent pleas

sleeping away the sun, why live this nightmare
when I can be a bold pixels pulsing on a screen?

the days blur weeks blur days, time as I know it dies
broken hourglass, steals my breath numb while flesh bleeds

and it's bled and scabbed and scarred
now knocked down by the upstart of the feed

watercolor drama etched in notebooks are paper mache
a poor replacement for scorching cement drenched in iced tea

bitter isolation, a decadent chocolate gorged upon
a glass of blank hall lining faces, please, I'm on my knees

the littered books all read, a closed library locks glass doors,
won't let me beg the shelves for a fresh reprieve

game nights and laughter never last under this saran wrap fear,
haunted by reminders that this temporary between is on lease

a summer stolen, a summer changed
the girl who was to the writer who can be

after all, drowning changes a person 
only fate has the keys to end this silent freeze