what am i doing here?

what is this?

should i be saying something?

should it be smart?

funny?

philosophical?

what are you doing here?

should you be doing that?

to me?

why is it?

why is it that the cankerous

feeling

overwhelming us,

smothering us,

forging us

would not let go?

when does it cease

to pit us against each other,

smashing one on another,

with cosmic patience?

where does it concede?

where is it safe to be?

where is it secure to breathe?

where does the you

and the me

become the us?