Who are you,

I always ask.
Do I know you?
Why do you look so
unreal?
What is this bizarre
disconnect, this mundane
disguise?
Why can't I recognize
you
or make any sense
out of the tiresome
improvised play
you seem to be in?
If anyone saw me
talking to you or
acting out for you
or making faces at you
or staring blankly at you
they would think me
insane,
and I'd argue the point
but I'm not sure
which one of us
would speak up first.