Blue Strawberries

He consistently brought them

Strawberries on a plate,

Every time COVID hit,

I believed it was just a joke, neat.

The advice was clear: stay home, save lives.

He never seemed to care,

My anxiety only increasing.

His ego proudly boasted,

Oblivious to the consequences.

All I could do was cry out in protest.

The place was too tiny; the neighbourhood was too nasty.

Taking no action, I observed the situation persisted.

He called his mom every day, even while lying in bed.

Eventually, he packed his bags and escaped.

The same as everyone else,

Lacking the courage to fully invest their souls,

As if only the physical body mattered

In this empty game of sexuality that they played.

They had their families,

They desired to have a good time with me,

Forgetting that I still exist,

Alone, whether with them or without.

Still, it was better to pretend than to confront the empty reality

And dwell on the past.

The present feels dull,

Overshadowed by frivolities.

As long as they all remain far away, it somehow works for me.

I'm uncertain about others, but personally,

This approach suits me.

~~~

Thank you for reading!