Familiar Strangeness

Caught in the glare of a cold bathroom light,

I glance at the glass, where the stranger feels right.

Who is this figure that stares back at me,

a ghost of my past or a face yet to be?

The steam clouds the mirror, distorting my gaze,

each flaw becomes sharper in this hazy haze.

I search for the features I thought I once knew,

yet shadows seem deeper, and the light feels askew.

A flicker of memory tugs at the seams,

who was I before life unraveled my dreams?

Here in this moment, I don’t know my name,

the reflection, a puzzle, untouched by the flame.