Height & Plummet

The yo-yoing scars.

The heights of hope.

The plummets of despair.

The stomach-churning, head-spinning cycle—

Repeats.

Repeats.

Repeats.

The pandemic will end,

But the stretchmarks will remain—

And shame.

Yeah, apologies.

Woke up cheery, forlorn by breakfast, I picked up a pen and poet-ed.

A wince-worthy moment for us all, I assure you.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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