Lather

I love someone not yet alive The chill of night rocks me to sleep I mourn you, but you have not died

Uncertainty breeds a foolish mind Vacated glass reveals a freak I love someone not yet alive

What do you owe, now you’ve resigned? Silence drives my ears to bleed I mourn you, but you have not died

I long for one peculiar night A reminder I am still perceived I love someone not yet alive

Madness leaks in through the blinds I greet her and she welcomes me I mourn you, but you have not died

And then I wake, take in the light Below my skin the echoes weep I love someone not yet alive I mourn you, but you have not died

Emma Conkle

Before we were breathing in our own souls I told you to Wash your hands! And Don’t touch your face!

The screen flickers again I head to the sink

Refreshing for the fifth time that Minute. It’s time To wash myself of it all But I return again even when my hands are Cracked. Refresh

I’m no longer allowed To look at the map. Johns Hopkins has lost A loyal spectator. Every time someone mentions It, My hands itch.

We need groceries. Wash my hands! Before I go. The cracks are as deep as canyons But that’s the medicine, I tell myself

I get out of the car, Breathing filtered air.