Dear Stranger,
I think I have seen you here before. Coming my way or maybe your face is just familiar like all the others I have pasted. Your clothes are dark just like mine. Was that you on the subway yesterday with your headset, bag, and hat so divine? I want to say hello but the words dont come to mouth. Maybe youve noticed me too? The times i’ve looked, glanced, and stared. Your voice sounds familiar even thought it the first time ive heard you speak. Your accent sounds peculiar, stronger, and it lingers in my body, shattered, frozen, weak.
Its funny how I look back and your not there. Somehow I feel, however, you been following me all this time. Always one step behind. Always one step ahead.
Awkward is how I feel. Week and pained. Nothing is what I feel, because nothing is what I have gained.