SwingyTheWeird

I cover my back with bandages.

I desperately want to kill you.

I really did try my best.

I love you. I hate you.

Hate. The story of my life.

There is a girl.  The girl, a cheery, bright young girl.  Lights up a room with a brilliant smile.  Bristelle.  There is a girl.  The girl, a spunky, quick-witted young girl.  Sheds courage upon others.  Reneeze.  They are alike.  On top of a hill, let's say, Bristelle sits.  She stargazes.  Bristelle; a smart and inquisitive girl.  Curiosity bowl filled to the brim.  She wonders.  She waits.  For what?  No one knows.  They all wonder.  On the top of a brick wall, let's say, Reneeze sits.  Knees folded up to her chin,

 Anaris was busy shoving items into his backpack.  A can of red spray-paint,  a package of toilet paper, two cartons of eggs (safely tucked between the toilet paper and the inside of the backpack).  Carefully, he picked it up, not wanting to smash the eggs.  It had just struck midnight and Anaris was ready for some killer pranking.  He knew the perfect place, too; the creaky, uninhabited mansion in Dead Man's Hollow.  He wasn't scared, no matter how intimidating the old place was or the ghost stories people told.  He knew that ghosts didn't exist.  When people die, they stay dead! Quietly, he went to the next room and woke his sister. "It's

It was a normal day, no different than any other, when Rainbow Dash woke up. She opened her eyes to a flood of light in her room. She heard birds singing, her alarm clock buzzing and... A knock on the door? Who would be here at this time of morning? She looked at the clock. Oh no! It wasn't morning! It was precisely twelve noon. She scrambled out of her bed and rushed to the door. "Special delivery for Rainbow Dash!" a familiar light gray pegasus said to the cyan mare as she handed a paper-wrapped package to Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash accepted it and wondered what it was. There was nothing on it except for 'RAINBOW DASH' written in all capi

i. Coupons and sales magazines have become more than just junk mail and the holes in my pants seem more patchable and I wonder just how much my sparse jewelry would fetch if I said I saw the face of Jesus in the glimmer of my pearls. ii. I am beginning to miss the sea I grew up on so much that I will read bad poetry just for the mention of a salty ocean breeze. I feel landlocked and sometimes I'm afraid that I will never see the world until I have retired from it. iii. Faith says her life is full of asking. I wish mine were full of answers, but I too have many questions and only Time will answer them for me. iv. My mothe