A Stanger

I am not you ,and you are not me ,but still we stand here in awe of ourselves of this angry silence we face toward each other, but nowhere near each other because the thought of me touching you ,and you touching me brings back memories we both don’t need so this silence consumes us , abuses us , forces us to come to the conclusion maybe this isn’t what we intended to be neither you or I could have wondered what we could be so maybe this is what we should be strangers that pass by without even a glance in either directions so maybe this is what we’re supposed to be.