You

 you became a stranger wearing the face I used to love, and I am haunted by the ghost of who you were.

you didn’t become someone else, you simply grew into a silence, where my voice no longer lived.

surely we must have met before, before words became walls and silence became the only rhyme our voices could mime, I used to know you.

I thought I was seeing a shadow of the love I once knew, but I realize that you are that love I no longer recognize.

loved you twice—

once for who you were,

and once for the echo

you left behind.