The Other Person

Pragti Punjabi
Sep 4, 2018 · 1 min read

Do you ever look into a mirror and see a stranger?
Ever think that you might be just a messenger?
Maybe even a figment of someone’s imagination?
Or maybe, just maybe, a pointless part of a constellation?

Every time I walk past a reflective surface,
I see this person who looks like a familiar face,
Yet is a complete stranger,
Every time I see this human I’m left in a daze.
We look the same,
Move the same,
Yet, we are strangers.
A stranger lies within me,
Or maybe I within it.
I know not how this happened,
Or when it happened,
But every time I search for myself in a mirror,
I find a face struck with terror.
I used to once know that person,
But it’s been long since the person changed,
It’s been long since I had a conversation with this stranger,
But now I think I’m too scared to talk,
Not only with this other person, but with all the others,
For who knows whether you are making conversation with the person you actually know,
Or whether you’re talking to the other person.

©pragtipunjabi

A logophile and bibliophile, my love for writing and literature seems to have no end.

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