Long Covid in a poem – a re-enactment of ‘I wanna be yours’ by John Cooper Clarke.

I wrote this while struggling with debilitating symptoms, most of which have now been attributed to Long Covid.

I wrote this while feeling low, but that’s no longer an unusual feeling.

I wrote this while burning internally from self-loathing, also not unusual.

I wrote this while feeling sorry for my partner, and wishing he had someone better to lay next to at night, emotions I experience every 24 hours.

I wrote this while realising that I’m not the person I was, and probably never will be again, thanks to declining physical and mental health.

I wrote this in the dark, while feeling lonely.

I wrote this on a night when I realised I hadn’t stepped outside for more than 700 days.

I wrote this when I wished in could write like Dr John Cooper Clarke, so I took his incredible poem, and made it miserable.

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I wanna be more

Let me be your doormat
On me you can walk
Let me be the mute button
So you can’t hear me talk

Let me be the medicine
We both know it’s not working
Let me sob for help to come
But the help will watch on, smirking

Let me be your constant shrugs
I know that I don’t matter
Let me be the missing hugs
I guess I’m looking fatter

Let me be your walk outside
Because I’m still not free
Let me be the abscent laughs
Life opposes any glee

Let me be depression
I’ll always be this sad
Let me be the bad one
I’ll imitate my dad

Let me be John Cooper Clarke
A clandestine fan poet
Let me hide these verses
‘Cause no one wants to know it

Let me hear the voices
They mean I’m not alone
Let me be bad choices
My friend is now my phone

Let me be a parent
It’s all I have to do
Let me do a good job
So you can both get through

Let me try to help myself
We both know I need out
Let me be rejection
This ain’t what life’s about

Let me be your lightbulb
My element will blow
Let me be your melted ice
And piss upon my snow

Let me be your pet at home
Feel stress-free with your cat
Let me be your bin man
Ignore my morning chat

Let me be your doormat
Drench me in your rain
Let me be your old grey sponge
To absorb all of your pain

Let me be your doggy bag
Fill me with your shit
Let me be your dance album
A beat that never quits

Let me give you back these gifts
Their burden feels a sin
I need their weight to be removed
It’s time. I fold. You win.

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Thanks for reading 💜