SOCIAL DISTANCING


by Michelle Awad

I have tried

swallowing

my pride, but my

pride
is jagged of edge

and bitter of taste,

I have

to **** on it

for a while
before 
it’ll go down
properly. Too often,

loving myself is like

taking a dry pill,

there is always

this thing stuck

in my esophagus,

and I think maybe it’s

words, so here I am, and 

I think maybe it’s 
shameful,

so here I am, I

went inside

just now

thinking I’d lay myself

in your lap

without warning, 
but the mood

wasn’t right, I don’t know

how else to explain it,

it feels like

we are low on battery,

we need charging,
it’s a 
blackout, we’re a city,
I 
don’t know how else to

explain it, and how do 
you
begin to repair what
 is
broken in ways
 you
can’t explain? So 
instead

I sat on the opposite end

of the couch, 
I listened to you
relay 
a conversation you were

having
with technology. You

are an excellent translator,

but this isn’t my idea

of communicating. I

decided

to come outside and 
write this,
instead of kissing you,

and that sounds crazy to me,

to do anything

instead of kissing you,

that’s ******* crazy, all we 
ever

talk about

is this ******* quarantine, 

how on earth 
do we feel 

so far apart lately.