There’s a stranger in my bed.
Sleeping by my side.
Though I have known him for longer than I care to admit,
I still find I don’t know him at all.
There’s a ghost taking up my space.
Sitting in my chair.
Though I don’t usually mind to share with my heart,
I somehow feel like it’s too much to ask.
There’s a shadow in my mirror.
looking back at me.
And I don’t recognize his skin, nor his smile or his eyes;
like I’m walking in the flesh of someone else.
There’s only me in the room.
And I am all alone.
Still I feel overwhelmed by the crowd.
I was always my own stranger.