summerskin
She flicked absentmindedly at the pages, running her fingers over each sharp edge and laid her eyes over every overly made up and perfect looking model, sighed, and wondered at the tragedy of how she would never look like any of them
I watched them one by one, galloping by the shoreline with their manes being blown backwards by the force of wind. And as I watched all I could think of was how I wished to be as free as them.
The cards fell, one by one on the table. He looked at me with laughter in his eyes, challenging me to go one. Pick one. This deck of cards were chances, each one seemed to jump in front of my eyes screaming, Pick me! Pick me! But I could only get one. What I chose would dictate the course of my life.
Her eyes were the colors of the setting sun. She moved around in places with flagrant disregard to her surroundings, running through streets with swift, light steps and her tinkling laughter piercing the cool, crisp air. But I could never figure her out. She was circles while I was a square. She talked in question marks while I always talked in periods. She was the question I wanted to spend eternity trying to answer.
Her laughter filled the air as she spun around in circles. He watched from a distance, his eyes welling up with bitterness. He knew better. It was all an act; her laughter was deceitful. She was the snow queen. Her heart was the iceberg that sank Titanic and every thing she said was like an icicle she wanted to stick right through his heart.