the knives in her back
felt like nothing at all to her
she's felt it all before,
and to understand anyone
seemed so hard,
as she didn't even
understand herself

she felt like feeling something
and i grew tired of seeing her
sit and wait,
crying

while the others stare,
smiling

I was a curious child, as all children should be.

My parents let me keep my dislodged teeth.

I started collecting,

I wanted to have a full smile.

Not only that,

But I had red clay that I made heads with;

How cool, would that be,

If I could make one with a smile?

Needless to say, I didn’t have many friends.

What I had were smiling heads.

There's an odd sense of peace that lies beneath the surface of a storm, just waiting to be uncovered.

One may be tempted to just look at the chaos and noise and deem it malicious; but if you take a moment to truly uncover it's emotion, the way you look at storms will change forever:

Some may feel high winds, but instead try to feel the rush of energy past your ears, through your hair, and across your skin.

Some may cover from the heavy rain, but instead try running through it, letting it wash over you like cleansing waters.

Some may fear the booming thunder, but instead try to let the vibration course through your veins shaking loose the dust off your passion.

Some may shield their eyes from the blinding lightening, but instead try to trace it's every path across the night sky like a one-of-a-kind, split-second painting that only you have seen.

Some may be working on repairing the aftermath, but instead try to stop and take it all in for a silent moment, as the Earth has just screamed at the top of her lungs and created a masterpiece and you did not hide your face, cover your ears, or shield your head - instead you looked to the sky and breathed it all in; the beauty, the music, the shower of life. You have chosen to see the world as a work of art, even for just a moment - and the Earth smiles because she knows.




-t.s.

She smiles when he whispers "girl you are my Peace.
She never thinks to question it
because it make her feel accomplished.
She brags about this man like a mother
doting over her newborn baby.
Little did she know, she was just his Piece of ***.

Thank you
You might not realize it
But you mean so much to me
I only go because I know you're smiling face will greet me
Even though no one else likes me
Or talks to me
(Those people don't know my name after a year)
You never fail to be there for me
It might just be your small act of kindness
But it means the world to me