Dating : Wash Your Hands

I begged you,
To wash your hands.
All the time,

But you were stubborn,
Saying you were too young,
And too black,
For a silly virus.

You were still smoking,
It didn’t matter.

Refusing,
To take a break,
Even for just a while.

You kept going out.
After I told you,
Called you;

Pleaded with you,
To stay the fuck inside.

I even wanted,
To be with you.

But you chose,
To be with your ‘boys’,
So you could have some fun.

And now I’m stuck,
On the other side,
Of this glass.

Your body,
Still; on that bed.

As my knees,
Fall to the floor;
My tears in tow.

Soaking up,
The mask,
On my face.

Praying to God,
That you make it out,
Alive.