Impotence/ Hope Returning

If this was a pandemic, if everyone I love was infected, if there was no cure, what would I feel? If I could not approach them, though I wanted to, if they pushed me away, out of love, what should I feel?

If I saw them in pain, if I saw them writhing in pain, if they could no longer speak, if they could no longer breathe, if their eyes closed and their mouths opened wide, if imagination could no longer soothe, if their hearts stopped fighting, the future disappeared, if I then saw them die, what would I feel?

If instead pulse increased and strength grew, if then it overflowed so much that it reached me, if mind blurred and reality clouded, if memories were just past and not present, if screams conquered silence, if limbs became greedy and wanted space itself, if teeth gnashed vengeance, if blood was wine, if eyes opened wide, if mouth called me but I was only prey and tongue was hunger, if madness won over love, if I lost, if I was forced to kill, what should I feel?

Fuck it. One day we will laugh again, one day we will smile again. One day we will be free to love each other.

I will wait, for desire to torture me, for anger to tear me apart, for uncertainty to crack will, for fear to break me. Fuck it, I still have hope, so fuck it.