I, is somebody else.
"You don't write as much as you used to anymore?" Recently, an old acquaintance dropped me a text, asking if I was doing alright. It's been over eight months since I wiped my presence from all social media. She asked me this question in one of her first texts. She mentioned how she loved my poem " The Scent of a Woman ." I had almost forgotten I’d written that. She told me how comforting my writings had been for her, an escape as she got back from work. A smile appeared on my face as I read the message. "Yeah, I'll write," I replied rather blandly. "You should. Your writing is great!" she responded immediately. In that fleeting moment, I was reminded of the time when I used to write multiple poems in a day. I used to craft short stories and plotlines with ease. For a few seconds, my soulless eyes twinkled, as if someone had refueled them with the ' soul ' that had been missing for months. For those few seconds, I smiled uncont
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