Stop Touching My Shit

I swear to god I'm going to scream

If one more person yanks on the locked door

And stares me down as they wiggle the handle

As if the massive red text on the door isn't there

And that them standing and watching me will get me to open the door

If I let you in, you'll just touch everything

With the hands that you never wash

You'll grab my pen off of my desk

And use up my green ink

And all of my sticky notes

I don't care if you think the "Budweiser Disease" is fake

I don't want you messing with my shit in the first place

And now I finally have an excuse to lock you out

And you pretend you can't read

That it's too cold to stand outside for eight seconds and look at the map

Or the notice that we don't want to spread your disease

Whether it be related to the pandemic or your stupidity

Normally I am desperate for human contact

I want to be touched

I want to be loved

But you can stay as far away as possible

Call in

Send me an email

Just leave

Or I'll cough in your face

And spit on your order

And tell you to fuck yourself

Because by acting like an idiot

You're fucking everyone else

Get your filthy hands away from me

And come back when this is all over