Dear Journal
By: Alexis Davis
Sometimes I feel as though I'm Soulless.
I stare into the mirror and see
Empty, hollow eyes looking back at me.
I can't help but wonder if I am nothing more than an empty shell…
A woman named Whitcomb believed that a person's spirit will leave their body if they give up, leaving it open for wondering souls to inhabit.
I wonder how long until someone comes and steals my body?
I don't know if I'm even living anymore…
I cannot tell.
I simply float through life as though I am merely a ghost, yet I cannot pass through solid obstacles, nor can I float through the air as a cloud.
Happiness comes no longer as often as it once did, I wake with the cries of an infant, and lull to the anguished screams of my lost innocence.
I often wonder how long it will be before my God gives up on trying to save me?
I can no longer shed tears for I feel no sorrow, no longer can I laugh truly for I feel no joy.
What's wrong with me?
I haven't written like this since my grandmother died, I have no desire to.
No will left in my youthful body…
I feel as though as though I have aged twenty years before my time, yet still I remain adolescent in my years and in this flesh.
It's startling to wake in the morn' knowing only one day has gone by and I am still merely new to adult status.
Strange how my heart longs for love that only wise ones know, yet my body continues to age and grow.
Sometimes I feel as though I'm Soulless.
I stare into the mirror and see
Empty, hollow eyes looking back at me.
I can't help but wonder if I am nothing more than an empty shell…
