The yo-yoing scars.
The heights of hope.
The plummets of despair.
The stomach-churning, head-spinning cycle—
Repeats.
Repeats.
Repeats.
The pandemic will end,
But the stretchmarks will remain—
And shame.
Yeah, apologies.
Woke up cheery, forlorn by breakfast, I picked up a pen and poet-ed.
A wince-worthy moment for us all, I assure you.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
The Words & Madness of Chloe Stowe 
Sounds like the routine of many people during lockdown, with words we can escape
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Sometimes, words are the only way to escape. Thank God we have them.
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Let’s toast to escapism
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Cheers!
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🍺
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