everything is still
but also moving-
vibrating in place
with fear
and productivity
and anxiety wearing a mask.

I hear
the sound of lawnmowers,
of children laughing,
dogs barking,
and everyone is home.
it could almost be a holiday,
if you closed your eyes
and wished really hard.

it isn’t.
the rain taps loudly on the roof.
there are no cars,
no planes,
no quick trips to the shop.

I check the moisture of my plants.
I cry for an entire day.
I work and try to ‘move online,’
to help in some small way,
try to make a dent in that pile of laundry.
wash endless dishes.

I watch the Queen’s speech.
I video call my sister, my grandparents.
I monitor the news in both my countries,
concerned about my family.
throw the ball for my dog.
throw a birthday party for my dog.

the shower broke.
I take baths which maybe is good for me
because it makes me still.
I light a candle.
I miss my therapist.
I miss my mother.
cry in the bath to the sound of Himalayan bowl meditation music,
a recent discovery.

so depressed I can’t get off the couch.
so afraid I can’t even watch a movie I’ve never seen.
don’t want to die,
but feel ill-equipped to live.

so productive i never stop.
eat healthy and drink loads of water and pee a million times a day.

have a pain flare up.
can’t get out of bed.
cuddle my dog and my husband.
it passes.

anxiety disguises itself.
can’t get off the phone
or focus on just one thing
maybe I should take a class
maybe I should paint the kitchen
maybe I should write a fucking poem
for the first time this year.

try to run two businesses.
try to pay the bills.
try to stay focused,
to find balance.

fail.

try again.

become active in my community,
my little group of friends,
who talk on the internet
and are all in the same place as me.
try to help.
push forward.

my husband made bread in the slow cooker.
(that’s basically magic.)
kiss him goodnight,
enjoy a slice and a cup of tea
in the conservatory
on my own.

pour another cup of tea.
try to write something true.
listen to nothing.
stay inside.

the stillness is frightening.
stay in it anyway.

cici reagan's eyes peeking over her jumper
Photo by Alan Green Photography
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