No-known cure

I wrote this poem sleep deprived at about 4am, travelling home in the middle of a pandemic after leaving my boyfriend behind to settle into his new life in a different country. I remember feeling so strange- surrounded by constant reminders of the pandemic- posters about social distancing, announcements to enforce mask use; it was incredibly bizarre. All of this combined with the bitter sweet feeling of leaving a loved one behind inspired my writing, especially the imagery of love personified as infection.


You have taken over 

Everything has some trace of you 

Like a plague ripping through a population

You are everywhere and everything 

And I have no choice but to allow myself to be wrecked by you 

Until finally the fever will break

And pale faced with a sweat on my brow

I will get better. 

By myself I will get well.

Only then can we exist together 

I will love you,

with every fibre of my new stronger self 

I will love you

On the rotten days 

I will love you 

 until we are run into the ground  

I will love you 

Be it in some earth shattering apocalypse event 

Or quietly and as softly as falling asleep

Quite simply I’m infected by you 

There is no known cure 

And there will be no survivors 


Image: Eden Cain

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