Vaguely Familiar: Stranger in My Own Life

I move through my days

like hallways I once knew,

everything vaguely familiar,

yet tilted,

off-center—

the walls leaning,

the mirrors untrustworthy.

Faces smile as if they’ve known me,

and I smile back,

pretending I remember

what it feels like to belong.

But inside,

I am a stranger in my own life—

watching myself from the edges,

carrying fragments of memory

that slip through my fingers

like water.

Still, in the blur,

a truth lingers:

what feels unfamiliar now

is only waiting

to be met again,

patient as a shadow,

faithful as a heartbeat.