Letters to Burn - FirefliesLetters to Burn - Fireflies by AgapeGirl
I stand in front of the mirror. I am still.
I don't see anything amazing - I'm just a seventeen-year-old girl with honey-colored hair barely cascading over her mature breasts. I am just a teenager with honey-colored skin and honey-colored eyes, with a hint of green around her pupils. I am told I am sweet as honey and Mom calls out, "Honey, it's time for bed."
I don't look at myself in the mirror much. Well, I just almost never think of it. I guess it's because I never was a girly girl. Not that I need to be one to look at myself in the mirror, but you probably know what I mean. I mean that I never really cared how I look, and most girls do.
I noticed how much I changed throughout these teenage years. How I was a tomboy, free and wild, chasing boys in a game of tag under the setting sun, on our fresh green field of daisies. How I ran to catch up to them through the mas