There was a girl we used to follow in the afternoons. We called her the Ghost of Tomorrow. I say we, speaking of myself because if referring only to myself, I, may sound all, but too strange. I never stalked or did anything treacherously wrong, yet I merely followed in order to see what was going on. This girl was happy and free and did as she liked, but looking closer there was a secret to hide. Peering closer in these afternoons of disclosure she would wander. Aimlessly I follow hoping not to be exposed; she did seem so alone. Small and frail was her frame, yet her adventures were deathly potent. They were as a poison for after my initial observation I was unable to tear myself away. It was as if she were like an empty porcelain statue with a gorgeously painted on smile. However, she was one that had been dropped a billion times shattered to a million tiny pieces some lost forever, yet someone had taken the time and pieced her back together. It was as though through her imperfections she was once again flawless. Every crack she seemed to embrace as beautiful because someone had shown her that the shadows are as important as the light. So, I continue to tread carefully for she is fashioned of porcelain unafraid of a fall. It was only I who noticed her: this Ghost of Tomorrow.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Potent
There was a girl we used to follow in the afternoons. We called her the Ghost of Tomorrow. I say we, speaking of myself because if referring only to myself, I, may sound all, but too strange. I never stalked or did anything treacherously wrong, yet I merely followed in order to see what was going on. This girl was happy and free and did as she liked, but looking closer there was a secret to hide. Peering closer in these afternoons of disclosure she would wander. Aimlessly I follow hoping not to be exposed; she did seem so alone. Small and frail was her frame, yet her adventures were deathly potent. They were as a poison for after my initial observation I was unable to tear myself away. It was as if she were like an empty porcelain statue with a gorgeously painted on smile. However, she was one that had been dropped a billion times shattered to a million tiny pieces some lost forever, yet someone had taken the time and pieced her back together. It was as though through her imperfections she was once again flawless. Every crack she seemed to embrace as beautiful because someone had shown her that the shadows are as important as the light. So, I continue to tread carefully for she is fashioned of porcelain unafraid of a fall. It was only I who noticed her: this Ghost of Tomorrow.
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I really like this. Did you write it?
ReplyDeleteThank you! Yea, I wrote most of it yesterday.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I love reading your stuff. Thank you for letting the rest of the world see it. You could easily hide it away. But you have a lot to offer the rest of the world. You're beautiful. Your story is beautiful as God heals you and you turn around and are a tool of healing to others.
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