Trapped in this house.
Walking the dog an occasional relief.
I’m not sure what’s normal.
I’m not sure what’s real.
I still laugh.
I still cry.
I still feel scared.
I still worry it will never end.
Or that I will die before it does.
Watching Winston Churchill’s funeral on tv with my nan.
Stuck adrift from the rest of the world.
Unable to reach out to friends or family.
I feel utterly alone.
I am still here.
There is always hope