People are dying in the world

I fixate on my body. 

I feel fat.

And yet that should not matter

At a time like this.

I am isolated in my studio apartment.

Awful and yet a privilege

Ample food I have but do not want

I want to smoke a cig.

Covid affects the lungs.

I think about death

Often

Hard not to when people are dying in the world.

What is life without relationships?

I do not feel capable.

For now I hide

Virus, men, corruption, death

I long for touch yet fear it too

This quarantine is not fit for two.