It's uncurable

this sickness

crawling in my own skin

surrounded by mundane

staring out not a window

looking through this monster.

The one who's taken over

stealing my connection to the outside

screens make the rules.

Formerly tangible

now a four walled prison

a force trapping

keeping me in.

The world used to have people

all that's left

here in this place

is pixels.

I wrote this at the beginning of quarantine in 2020. I was tired of looking through screens and sitting and staring at my computer. This poem isn't from one of my books but I enjoyed working on it. Hope you like it!

-- Eliana