I lost myself the day I said “I do,”
Not in love’s embrace, but in a silent queue—
Of rules to follow, roles to play,
Till pieces of me just slipped away.

Your family’s needs became my own,
Their voices louder than my own tone.
A smile worn like a fragile mask,
While drowning in each thankless task.

My dreams—once vivid—dulled by dust,
Of weekend chores and broken trust.
Career on edge, ambition bruised,
Time stolen, freedom refused.

Emails left unread for meals to cook,
Deadlines missed for one more look
At laundry piles, at calls to make—
All done for others, for no one’s sake.

You and I, just shadows in the light,
Roommates passing in the night.
No spark, no touch, just empty air,
A bond that’s present, but barely there.

The weekends come—so do the lists,
I scrub and clean, while joy resists.
But something stirs beneath the ache,
A voice that whispers, “This can break.”

I don’t live—I function, I survive,
Doing everything, yet not alive.
No space for hobbies, rest, or grace,
No time to find my rightful place.

And still, I wait—half hope, half doubt,
Wondering when I’ll climb back out.
When will I breathe and just be me—
Not wife, not help, but finally free?