A quiet day to myself,
dinner alone at a table for two,
days without contact with another soul

I avoid stepping outside at all,
until I want even base interaction,
and have to force myself to be social

I’ll cut myself off for today,
and ignore the world outside me,
only to reach out to anyone come tomorrow

All this seems so normal,
the result of choices I made,
the consequence of mistakes one too many

I recoil from a simple touch,
while wearing the lie of a fake smile,
and question the motives of, “how are you?”

A touch can bring so much pain,
the smile’s illusion can be one’s armor,
and some questions aren’t meant for answers

Yet I crave that simple touch,
I’m so exhausted by the smile’s lie,
and to answer honestly would be welcome

In a city of millions,
I feel I’m in complete isolation,
and I don’t even know if that’s what I want