Where Am I?

Somewhere...

I lost myself.

Not all at once.

No—

it happened slowly.

While shaping this world

with hands that trembled,

I fell apart—

grain by grain,

moment by moment.

Every morning,

I woke for someone else’s sunrise.

Every night,

I folded my loneliness

into silence...

and let it sleep beside me.

I built homes

I never lived in.

Gave light

I never stood beneath.

Smiled…

when I wanted to scream.

And in return?

Silence.

Echoes.

A single, aching question—

“Where are you?”

I was there—

in a mother’s blessing,

in a child’s laughter,

in a brother’s success,

in a sister’s joy.

But the man in the mirror?

He’s a stranger

wearing my skin.

They say—

“You’re an angel.”

But angels don’t bleed like this.

No one saw the wings I burned

to keep everyone else warm.

I gave my heart…

but forgot

it was mine to begin with.

I carried everyone.

Lifted dreams

that weren’t mine.

Lived through days

that didn’t ask

how I was doing.

And now…

as life quiets

into a slow dusk,

I wonder—

If I disappear...

Will anyone know

I was ever really here?

What remains?

Not a name.

Not a legacy.

Just worn hands,

quiet eyes,

and a breath

that feels borrowed.

I want a corner.

A silence.

A place

where I can breathe

for myself.

Not as someone’s hope.

Not as someone’s strength.

Just…

me.

And maybe—

just maybe—

I'll ask forgiveness

from the version of me

I left behind…

who waited,

and waited,

and waited—

but was never called upon.

Somewhere,

I lost who I was

while building this world.

And now…

I whisper—

Where do I go…

to find where I am?