Somewhere along the way
I became responsible
for everyone else’s happiness.

And while I was busy
keeping the lights on,

the music stopped.

I miss passion.

I miss being known.

The easy laughter.
The reaching hand.
The feeling that someone
was glad I existed.

Somewhere along the way,
I became a caretaker

of a life I no longer recognize.

How strange,

to wake up inside your own life
and feel like a visitor.

To look around and think:

I remember choosing love.

I just don’t remember
choosing this loneliness.