Covid stuck in my mouth

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Grant Mclaughlin

Coronavirus, I won’t forget how you 
forced open my closed red mouth, 

                                                               hidden behind a mask. 

How you poured your viral-genetic-poison-sugar bag 
down my unsuspected mouth. 

                                                               Choked. 

Filled my lungs with cement, 
made me cough up asphalt from my weathered mouth, 

                                                               roommate's fear stuck 
                                                               unannounced 

You tied a ribbon around my neck, 
you put cotton balls down my clenched mouth, 

                                                              deep inside my 
                                                              throat. 

You clawed through my mask 
and put your dirty fingers in my unprotected mouth, 

                                                              used my uvula as a fidget 
                                                              toy. 

I just want to breathe, 
but I’m coughing up my soul from my already dead mouth. 

                                                              Covid took away 
                                                              a mother’s little boy, 

And then it sewed Grant shut like 
a doll head’s mouth. 
Grant McLaughlin is a poet and journalist in his fourth year at the University of Mississippi. He writes for his blog, The Underground Post. These poems represent major points in his life when he experienced change within himself as well as the effects that Covid- 19 had on him. 

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