I only feel like a stranger
when you tell me to wear a raincoat
even when it hasn’t rained
in three weeks.
That is as strange to you
as it is to me.
You’re surprised that I speak
your language.
But you expect everybody
to speak your language.
You say you don’t judge.
But when you’re sober,
you judge.
And here I am,
sober as a judge.
When you’re sober,
I’m a stranger
and you judge.