Penelope

Looking into the mirror,
Penelope couldn't help but feel
Like a ghost.
The reflection
Staring back at her
Was not that of a person
Who was truly present
In this world.
The eyes lacked the brightness,
The face held no expression,
And the body seemed to drift,
Without any real sense
Of belonging.
She had become
A mere shadow
Of herself,
Her identity lost
To the abyss
Of her thoughts
And emotions.

She felt like she was hovering,
Every movement weighed down
By the burden
Of her existence.
There was no enthusiasm,
No passion,
No joy,
And no sadness.
It was just a constant numbness
That had taken over
Her body and soul.
It was as if she
Was a passenger
In her own life,
Watching everything
Unfold
From a distance,
Incapable
Of making any real
Impact.

Days passed by
In a blur,
And she couldn't recount
What she had done
Or accomplished.
Time had lost its meaning,
And she felt like
A mere observer
Of the world around her.
There was no sense
Of purpose,
No motivation,
And no direction.
She was just a shell,
A hollow being
That drifted through
The monotony
Of everyday life.

The feeling
Of being a ghost
Instead of a person
Was overwhelming,
And she could no longer
Ignore the nagging
Emptiness inside her.
She longed
For something
More,
For a sense of belonging,
For a reason to stay
In this world.