There were no footprints in the dust behind her. |
My name is Molly McIsaac, and I am alive. I am a photographer, writer, dreamer, graphic designer, dog lover, comic book dork, video game store employee, traveler, toy collector... I use this space to share my writing, my art, my inspirations. This tumblr is for my personal musings, art, photography and writing. If you are looking for my constant stream of geekiness, go here. flickr :: last.fm :: facebook :: twitter email: heyheymamawolf@gmail.com |
I wrote this as my myspace description a very long time ago.
“hello!” she cried, a wide smile gracing bright features. “i am molly colleen… you are a beautiful soul. i’m sure that if i turned you inside out, your insides would look like oil on water, all beautiful and chaotic.” her tongue is the only muscle in her body that works harder than her heart. if you look at her for too long, it’s like squinting into the sun. she starts to change shapes and scares your eyes and you need to hide them. you grow suspicious of her selfless love. you believe lies. she is too kind, too naive, too inhuman. there is no way a girl like her could possibly exist. does she really exist? is she really human? sometimes, you see wings fluttering behind her bony back. at times, her feet lift from the ground and you cry, “wait, girls cannot fly!” and she stares at you with her big brown occuli and crashes down again.
what do you do with a girl like her? is it possible to lay her out on paper, to simplify her down into words? are words capable of expressing her uniqueness? she wants to know you. she cares. she’s a geek. she smiles alot. she adorns herself to distract from her plain-ness. she creates moments because moments make her feel real. you want to talk to her, to ask her, “good lord, what are you?”, but you know that she will not answer, merely smile and waltz away with a playful nip of her lip.
