You've gotten sloppy;

Your poems don't read like they used to.

Hand sanitiser, drying up.

What use have you for being clean?

Or maybe you should down it.

Tell me why

You only write when your lungs are

Asbestos and dynamite.

So you can spill onto a screen

Your godless coughing, and

Un-literary prowess?

Whispered screams

And puppy eyes,

You're barking mad.

When did you forget what poetry is?

Why have your words gone

Cold and meaningless?

Why has your body?

You wish you knew how to write about beauty,

Or to write beautifully about tragedy.

To describe love;

If only you could see it.

Write that essay, that Christmas card.

Know that none of it means anything.

Don't type that comment, that compliment;

You no longer have the words.

You crumpled the sheet into an

Origami fireball.

Fight for love. Destroy yourself.

When did you start hiding from the bombs?

What's left to do?

You're scared that poetry

Has fallen out of love with you.