Come What May, and Loathe It
It’s depressing, having all these people around.
Like a creeping fog, an inching illness, a hard, beaded
sweat- I want to shower and medicate until it goes away.
It’s distressing- thinking that I’m part of it.
Sometimes I imagine I exist in a form detached from myself,
in a place close, but no longer part of it and I feel better.