Cinematic Strangers

The couch creaks under my weight, but I sit back,

waiting for the familiar sounds in the kitchen—

a stepparent shuffling pots, a symphony of stirring,

a heartbeat beneath a sky I didn’t choose.

They ask me to join for movie night, a kind invitation,

but I freeze, heart racing, caught in a web of strangers,

the air thick with popcorn, stories unraveling slow,

drowning in silence, my seat now a cage,

I glance at a half-empty bowl, untouched,

as if sharing this space would turn me inside out—

I hear laughter pouring from the screen, not mine,

nothing to share but a world full of light,

while I wait for the ghost of what was,

so close, yet oceans away.