I did not practice self care
I did not draw or read or bullet journal
Or any other pretty thing I've been putting off
People have been saying that
If your friend doesn't text you back now, then they're just bad at communicating
Because no one is busy now
And if you don't pick up those hobbies you've been putting off
You're just lazy and need to stop procrastinating
Solitary confinement is the worst punishment a person can endure
Even animals can't handle being alone too long
Orca whales start to show signs of severe stress
If kept alone too long in captivity
They grind their teeth down against concrete
Scratch their skin against walls
I'm not sure what people did a hundred years ago faced with pandemic
Hysteria and madness misdiagnosed
If I never saw your face on my computer screen
I would see it in the wall too
Let it be known that I tried everything to fill the silence
The house reeks of chocolate cookies and rising yeast at odd hours of the night
Cuttings of plants in jars are growing from the windows unchecked
Yellow wallpaper is pasted up to the walls with liquid starch
I stick it back whenever it peels
And I pace around the apartment
unsatisfied by baking or gardening or any other task
completed alone or indoors
My friends have all dyed their hair, or had a bottle of wine, or made some other temporary change to their realities
You're making a movie
Finished a shot list in a month
Every time I called you'd work with me next to you on the phone
And I am still here on the other end
Until March
Until April
Until May
Until June
Biting nails and grinding teeth with the woman in the wallpaper
Madison Taylor is sixteen and in a suburb thirty minutes north of Chicago. She's an artist and works on glass art and jewelrymaking/metal art. She's also a part of the local fencing club, Crimson Blades. She's been featured in DePaul's best of high school writing anthology and hopes to use writing to speak up about important issues.
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