GildedQuill

If I was a ghost, I would have the time of my life- my real one and my afterlife. I would haunt all the people who I have a grudge against. I would be a spirit and a guardian. I would go through walls and I would fly over towns. I would feel no pain. I would be unstoppable. Best of all, I would be invisible. When I was a ghost, I was so limited. I could walk through walls, but that gets old. I could not feel pain, but I could not feel warmth or joy. I haunted the people I hada grudge against, but I felt so guilty. I could not fly over towns. I was not a a spirit or a guardian; I was an observor. Worst of all, I was invisible.

I wonder if roses think that they're beautiful. Is it only humans that don't know their own beauty? Is it only humans that have to dye their hair and put on makeup every day because they are so afraid of being ugly? I wonder if roses think that they're beautiful. I wonder if roses are jealous of the fake roses, made of plastic. I wonder if they wish their color was as pure as the plastic ones. I wonder if they wish their stems were as green and their petals as perfectly shaped. I wonder if the flowers know that the plastic flowers are meaningless. The plastic flowers have no pollen for bees or butterflies or other creatures. Plastic flowers h

I wonder if roses think that they're beautiful. Is it only humans that don't know their own beauty? Is it only humans that have to dye their hair and put on makeup every day because they are so afraid of being ugly? I wonder if roses think that they're beautiful. I wonder if roses are jealous of the fake roses, made of plastic. I wonder if they wish their color was as pure as the plastic ones. I wonder if they wish their stems were as green and their petals as perfectly shaped. I wonder if the flowers know that the plastic flowers are meaningless. The plastic flowers have no pollen for bees or butterflies or other creatures. Plastic flowers h

Why is it that when you erase something, it's never completely gone? You tried to erase me. You scratched and scratched at the paper that is your heart with a stubby, rubbery, pink eraser from Staples. And the paper ripped. But you just taped it together and tried to erase again. I will fade. You might not always see me there. But my name, written in neat, cursive letters, will always be there. You didn't know that when you ripped your paper, you ripped mine, too. And tape cannot fix it. I've spent so many hours bent over my fragile piece of paper, dripping glue and rubber cement and tape and even a thin needle and thread. It will never look

Running Because it's the only thing I know how to do Panting Because my breath is coming in short, agonizing pangs Sweating Because the adrenaline and the fear is too much to handle Looking back Because I have to know if you are still chasing me Gasping Because the pain is too much to handle Falling Because now I'm tired and weak Struggling Because now you're right on top of me and I'm afraid Dying Because you struck the final blow

I can see through you. It's because you're plastic. The kind of clear plastic that they wrap around children's toys. The kind you need a scissor or a really sharp knife to remove. The sort of plastic that fathers wrestle with at home before throwing the package back at their kids, saying "Get Mommy to take it off." The kind of plastic that mothers despise, cutting away plastic with scissors in a struggle. You are the kind of plastic that a little child, who hasn't heard of recycling and being green throws in the garbage can with bio-degradable things. The plastic that is not eco-friendly. You are the kind of plastic that sits in land fills, w

What is the average heart made of? The average heart is made of memories and feelings and love. What is my heart made of? My heart is made of trust and laughter and a little bit of hope. What is your heart made of? Your heart is made of resentment and fear and mistrust. And don't forget the piece of my heart that you ripped out and called your own. The next time you give your tiny, shruken heart to someone, be sure to point out the healthy strip of pink and red when the rest of your heart is blue and starving. Tell them that someone special healed your heart a little and helped it grow. You and I will know the truth; that you stole that healt

There was a girl who wasted away in front of a mirror. She spent all day staring into the mirror. It was a beautiful mirror. The finest wood framed the glass. It was a beautiful cherry colored wood. When she wasn't staring into the mirror, she was polishing the wood around it so that she could see her reflection in that, too. The actual mirror was made of the finest quality of silver. Most mirrors were cheap glass with a thin coating of silver over it. But this mirror was pure silver. She stared into the mirror and she saw the most wonderful things. She saw a world where people could get along. She saw a world where love bloomed and darkness

There's a burning, raging fire in my heart. This fire keeps me warm when the world around me is so cold. This fire lets me love with all my passion and speak with all my feeling. There's a wild, spattering fire in my feet. This fire makes me dance in the rain. No amount of water can extinguish the joy I feel. The joy I deserve to feel. The joy that I own. There's a torrid, glowing fire in my throat. This fire lights my tongue when I speak and sparks when I laugh. This fire fuels my joy. There's vivid, sweltering fire in my fingers. This fire lets me shape my world the way I want. This fire lets me create and destroy at my will. There's

The ground is wet and cold today. Gravity seems to be pulling on me with an extraordinary will. I don't like this. I'm getting all muddy and unclean. I spread my wings and wait for a sacred wind to blow. The breeze is warm and inviting. I lift my feet from the ground and I pump my wings with the air current. My blood surges and I open my mouth and allow a delightful, happy twittering to come from my throat. I soar high into the air. I feel like I can touch the sun. The air currents change and I shift my powerful, beautiful wings and float easily in the air. Suddenly, a bomb goes of right underneath me. War. I am untouched by this terrible e