I would write on his veins and watch my words cycle endlessly through his body

I would write on my desk at school and write on the walls that scream "no graffiti"

But most of all,

I'd want to write the word "why?" In his brain over and over,

So he would at least subconsciously feel uneasy thinking about the way he treated me

i'd write on his heart;

capital letters across his love.

overlapping and outlining,

words coming from heaven above.

only i would know it was there

and it would be satisfying to say:

even after after were over

plastered on your soul is MY name.

I think the best place would be to write with invisible ink would be on someone's forehead. I'd have to write it backwards, so you could read it in the mirror. I'd only really write one thing for most people. "You are amazing and don't forget to follow your dreams. BE A DINOSAUR!"

Feelings,

Thoughts That will never be heard,

Love letters and poems that shall never be read,

Things I've wanted to tell so many people to whom I will never tell no matter how bad I want to,

Songs and words that I will never sing,

Most of all...

The 3 little words I never said to you.

"I LOVE YOU"

If I had invisible ink, I would use it to write my story. Within ourselves, we carry large vials of blind man's liquid dye that, on occasion, becomes visible through our own will, when we let others read or listen to some of the things we've been keeping inside.

If it were up to me, had I been given invisible ink, I'd use it on countless pages to write about what happened in the past, what's going on in the present, and what I hope for the future. Without the fear of the pages ever being found, read, rejected or accepted, misunderstood or embraced.

I'd write pages telling people how I truly feel about them, without enhancing or damaging their egos.

I would only confuse them by giving them the seemingly blank, empty sheets of paper.

However, to me, the words would be there.

I could tell you I'd use it to write another letter to the thief who stole my heart, asking him to please give it back.

I could tell you I'd write all over my arms and legs, drawing designs and tattoos that I could wash off eventually.

But.

If you want the real answer, I'd probably end up drawing phallic symbols and writing expletives all over walls of buildings and laughing to myself about how hilarious I am because to tell you the truth I'm a twelve y/o boy.