Fragments of A Soul

tired smiles

She sat there, chatting with her friends, laughing ever so loudly, feeling ever so happy. She seemed fine, happy, content with life.

But, some say lonely people laugh the loudest. If you look deeper into her eyes, you'd realise that the sparkle in her eyes was merely the reflection of the sun shining above her. You'd realise that her smile, though large, was forced and not genuine, tired and unhappy.

I know how she felt. I was once her, after all. I knew and still know what she had been through. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing the reflection of myself. Except she had hazel-coloured eyes and I had silvery-grey ones. And she had dark brown hair flowing down her shoulders, while mine were a light shade of silver. And she had a lightly tanned skin as opposed to my pale, translucent one.

But you know what I mean, right? We've both been through the same things, the same betrayals, the same hurt. We've both cried alone in our rooms before, with just a lone soft toy for comfort. We've both know what it's like to be alone.

And what it's like to be tired of smiling.

I wanted to give her a hug, stroke her hair, tell her that everything would be alright (but, we both know that's a huge fat lie). I reached out for her hand, but my hand went right through hers. I've tried this countless times, so I wasn't surprised.

But that did nothing to curb the pain in my heart, though. Silvery tears flowed down my cheeks, only to disappear once they hit the ground next to us.

Of course, she couldn't see me. I'm not exactly human, after all.

You know when they say that when one goes through too much pain in life, they lose their soul? Their soul becomes so torn, tattered and bruised that it becomes non-existent?

Well, that's half-true. The soul lives, just that the person doesn't know it because she's so hurt on the inside.

I should know, for I am her past soul. She lost me. Or rather, I lost her, when her boyfriend hurt her, and there's a limit to the amount of abuse one can take. Her walls were up, and her eyes became soulless.

I'm not exactly human, and neither is she.

What happens when you've lost your soul?

That's right. You become a ghost of who you once was.

And that's exactly who she is right now.

I'm her non-existent soul, and she's a ghost. Not feeling, not living, just there.

[a/n: so sorry for the late upload! haven't been writing lately (no time and no idea on what to write oops) so here's one that has been sitting in my drafts! wrote this in jan btw and it's april now O.O (if any of you happen to follow my poetry instagram, i did post this there back in jan/feb). anyways, hope everyone is doing well! take care during this period, and hopefully this will pass soon:")]