There was just something about her that captivated everyone around her, no one knew what it was but no one cared. She was like art, beautiful but mysterious. No one ever knew what drew them to her, they just knew she was worth more. But that's all she was in their eyes, something to look at. While Some people got close enough to see her in fine detail, others left her to see another. Something even more interesting, less of a mystery, with more vivid color and sharp lines. And she watched as everyone else around the room switched from painting to painting, picture to picture. Though she watched everyone else, what she didn't see was the sculpture staring at her from across the room, being his own piece of art. Beautiful, precise. What he lacked was the mystery she held in her canvas, and all he wanted to do was run his fingers over the soft line and dull colors. All he wanted was to solve the mystery she held in her eyes.
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The Art of Mending A Broken Heart
Short StoryI don't think it's about finding myself as much as it is about remaking myself. I had been this girl for awhile, and then I started changing. Heading in a new direction blindfolded. I think it's time to take the blindfold off and create myself with...
