Names No One Calls Me

I used to think I was someone. A brother. A friend. A reason to be missed. Now I hear my name less each day. People speak around me. Through me. Over me. Never to me. Even the mirror looks confused. Like it forgot who I am or why I’m here. I walk past crowds and feel transparent. Not invisible. Worse. Like they see me but decide not to look. No anger. No hate. Just absence. Just air. There are names no one calls me anymore. But I still answer to them in my head. Because that’s where I still exist. Where I am still someone.