cheesegal14
Trial by fire, they called it. The ritual that involved being burned to death, being scorched, only by the eyes of those you know and trust, by your loved ones. You disintegrate under their harsh scathing eyes as you try to remember how or why this had ever happened.
Thread is simple. It binds, without consequences and unconditionally. It doesn't talk about you behind your back or kick you out when you get pregnant. Thread can hold things together better than any family ties, she decides, making another stitch and turning up the Mexican folk blasting from her small cheap stereo.
One fold, another, yet another. a form is beginning.Yet another fold, yet another, it is finished. A crane. A symbol of peace, crafted from paper. It adds to the pile. only 585 left to go.
i believe that the ocean is green and the sky is blue. i believe that nothing can stop me from reaching my dreams. i believe that people believe in me.
When we were small and our pets died, we would have a funeral. We would bury them in the back yard and say our prayers and goodbyes. Today, we bury our feelings.
My teacher is the universe to me. For without her, life wouldn't be worth living. I came here a child and I left a woman.
They cornered me, all around it seemed like a wall of them, my fears, my inhibitions, my what ifs, all of them, in my way. I can't move forward, not back, what now? What now?
the chalk board wasn't a chalkboard. It was a portal. Knowledge was transfered from a seemingly unreal place, to the chalkboard. It was also a path way, bringing that knowledge to us. That chalkboard seemed magic.
the limo pulled up to the curb. Down rolled the window. The door opened. out stepped a man in purple and white high tops. he was British. and he showed me the world.
it always stayed with her, no matter what. green and tattered, it stood as her banner, her comfort, her security blanket. it was filled with things, toys goodies, books you name it. and now, now it was filled with love.