What If?

 
You say you're as sane as the next man
but do you know anything
about him?
or he, you?
What if he is a homicidal maniac?
Or schizophrenic?
Where does that leave you standing?
In your shoes, or in his?
Does he even wear shoes?
Did you bother to look?
What if he has no shoes?
Or feet?
Do you still feel sane?
Can you justify sanity?
Your own sanity?
Can you justify my sanity?
Where is the yardstick you measure your sanity by?
Or mine?
What if the knife in his hand is there to gouge
your bleeding heart out?
Not to peel the apple you offered him?
Or her?
What then?
What if I were the man standing beside you?
And you were stood alone
As was I
What then?
When were you ever inside my head?
Or I in yours?