who am I?

I wake up every day as someone unnamed, Like I was here once, then quietly erased. People speak to me, but it feels untrue, Like they’re talking to someone I used to be. I don’t know my name. I hear it said, but it doesn’t belong. It feels like a word for a life that ended And left its body moving on. I look in the mirror and wait for recognition, But nothing looks back. Just tired eyes holding a history I can’t remember living. I walk through days like a ghost in disguise, Breathing, blinking, pretending I exist. Everyone sees a person— No one sees the absence inside. I don’t cry anymore. My tears ran out from being ignored. Now the sadness just sits quietly, Heavy, patient, permanent. I’m hurting in a way that doesn’t scream. It whispers. It stays. It makes a home in my chest And never leaves. I forget who I was. I forget what I loved. I forget why I mattered. Each memory fades like it was never mine. I don’t know my name, Only the weight of carrying something broken. Only the exhaustion of being awake When I don’t feel alive. I feel numb, but the pain still breathes. It follows me everywhere, Proof that emptiness can still ache. I’m lost—not searching, not found, Just stuck in between being here and being go