I do the norm
Stare him down
Try and break him down in my mind
Who are you, why are you here, what do you want?

I start with how he holds himself
Beat down, heavy, as if he carries the truth of his pathetic life on his back
His clothes’ designer, old and dirty, hang on his once fit body
His hair shaggy, infested with filth.

He speaks as if contemplating my thoughts
“Hello stranger”, says the man
The voice is raspy, torn and unsure
His lips: dry, and salivating at the though of being used.

I’ve never made it this far before, to look into his eyes
They are shallow with confusion and discontent
My brain swelling, infuriated, dreading his eyes,
Hating his stare, how dare he hold my stare?

I’ve thought enough about it today
Flush the toilet, turn off the light, step back from the mirror
“Who am I? ”, says I. “I am a stranger.”
A Stranger lives within me