My jaw hurts
And my brain feels like a wilted flower.
My eyes hurt from staring
At a lifeless screen.
My face is a swollen cloud
With thunderstorms underneath glass balls.
My hands hurt.
They are dried to flakes of peeling skin.
With bloody blisters and an infected cut.
They have been beaten through a shedding blade.
A sand storm.
My legs hurt.
They are kissed with purple and green smudges.
With raised bumps that fall tender to a touch.
They don’t fall straight anymore.
Squiggly lines with indents and shards of bone.
My heart hurts.
My best friend moved home
Three long months ago and
Of talking on the phone.
Catherine (Catie) Reed, at the age of seventeen, discovered her love for poetry during the joys of COVID. Cooped up in her apartment in Boston, Massachusetts, Catie began to write in hopes of escaping boredom from her online classes, capturing the impacts of solitude against a blank screen. Outside of her Brookline life Catie spends most of her free time in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, listening to music while watching the waves crash over the rocks.