Daniela Jerez González
It’s been three years since I’m 17 years old,
three years since the world stopped.
Feeling anxious and lost,
not knowing when it will get better.
Will it even get better?
It’s a constant loop,
eat, sleep, repeat.
It’s a constant loop,
wake up, work, sleep.
The same issues every day,
«My Wi-Fi is unstable» «You sound lagged»
The same fear every day,
cough, cough. Will I die?!
«Are you okay?» «Do you have a fever?»
Monotone voices
«Keep your six feet of distance at all times.»
The world stopped, and so did my brain, and my body.
Social interactions were scary, puertorrican horror.
No hugs, no kisses, no lingering touches, nothing.
Fist bump here, a two-finger salute there.
But when will this end? Will we be alright?
This sorrow all time consuming,
this hole I’m in and can’t get out of,
When will it end?
Three years later, I’m still 17 in a body of a 20-year-old.
The world is moving as it did before,
the sun is shining, and people are hugging.
But the aftermath is there.
Every March, my body reacts to the world stopping.
But everything’s back and I’ll be okay…
