My mother told me that I looked like I had a smile always painted on my face today. She was upset, angry and tired. Talking to me in angry tones, and she stopped abruptly. She asked me why I always looked to have a smile painted on my face. I shrugged. What should I answer that with?

At first I didn't believe her. Nobody can always look to have a smile. But my sisters all looked at me and agreed with my mom. Now I wonder, why? I've read, lived, the most heartbreaking stories. I've felt pain deep in my soul. But I always seem to have a smile painted on my face. Although I have no clue why.

I suppose I will take it as a compliment. A smile brightens every ones day. And a smile always painted on your face, hiding in worried creases and a serious face. In a solemn moment when that might be the only thing to brighten the mood.

But what if it's also a curse? What if a painted smile at all times isn't always the best thing? I've been called to friendly before, by friends. Called to talkative and inclusive. To nice, but never naive. And never before have I been asked about my always painted smile that seems to hide from me in the mirror. Only about the consistent book glued to my nose. But I don't know what to think. Is it more curse or blessing? Who else sees it? Who else wonders about it? Who thinks it's good, and who thinks it's bad? I've heard people call laughter the call of heaven, a smile brighten the coldest day. but what if the laughter that always floats in the air gets annoying, like a song that gets listened to too often. The smile fades away like the sun? There but not always acknowledged. Ignored, and hated by people? I simply don't know what to think.

Art is a life held in the hands, voices, bodies, and minds of many. Inspiration at the mind's peak, looking, seeing, hearing, and feeling art come through and flow into your soul. For one to be able to bend and shape worlds of our own where kings and queens are just teenagers, worlds where dogs can fly, worlds with any and every possibility, where every dream you have ever dreamt comes to life. Worlds of every emotion whether it be fear, rage, exhilaration, sorrow, or even love. No matter what shape it may take, All art has something in common, Whether it be paintings, stories, poems, music, or dance, They all have Soul they all have heart. They are Art. -C.W.B

the way

your words

wash over me

not unlike

the windswept sea

and like the tide

when it goes out

I know

you’ll take

a piece of me

This place

we inhabit

is just a theoretical

fuckpot

of questions

and maybe's.

All the alterations

we seek

for a hope of a peek

into the

Unimaginable,

takes us

probably nowhere

but around the cycle

of all we'll ever

know to be.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop

always looking down, never looking up.

They always say that it's better to never look at what you could fall through

I just stare. Let my mind reel and my heart burst.

Climbing up a wall without a holster,

slipping and giggling,

laughing like a menace.

Breaking and crumbling below the pressure

Running across a heavily busy street,

Jumping from a swing to high up

Reading the fight scenes until I think my heart will attack

Slowly dying from the inside out

A different drug that is still bad

Something I can get from going against the rules

Running to fast on slippery ice

Loving every moment

hand on hand combat,

never thinking, always moving

Letting the familiar feeling flood through my veins

hotter than blood, thicker than water

I'm sure someday my heart will burst

Will stop freaking out at everything I do

But it's not today

So I keep going.

Attacking every menacing thing that lies before me

Stealing the drug I love so much

So that one day my prescription bottle will lie

I'll go to rehab but I think I'll still get the high

fly down stairs, trying other medicine

going against every rule.

The doctor writes down my antidote.

A small glass room to do nothing in.

Not big enough to run

Not big enough to fly

But still I get my high

Talking myself into it

Such a risky trip

Still I go for more because it's what I love

It doesn't kill my lungs

Doesn't ruin my legs

Just sloshes my heart

Races my mind

My drug.

My antidote.

My adrenaline high.

They love whatever I make

I never mind what they take

But every once in a while I'd like a new name

Something else than this fame.

Maybe being smart isn't what everyone wants

To know every thing, everybody taunts

They say they want to be smart

but whatever happens they depart

Truly they don't want to be smart

they want to be cool and tart

they don't want to have their own personality

They want to be the same, the same brutality

In fact, they turn against the people that are different

Taking down people who aren't the same is their only interest

But their to blind by their thoughts to see

The people who don't vary, they hurt the colorful coral in the sea.

I have a circus in my head that makes me want to scream

I see a ringleader who tells me what I want to be

I have a voice inside my head that makes me want to bleed

I have a friend who keeps telling me that I should just be me

I have a criminal attraction to these false beliefs

I have a tendency to sin and always listening

I have a strange desire to eat less and barely sleep

I own a dirty journal where I write my memories

I'm obsessed when I get uncontrollably depressed

I'm depressed when I'm exposed to uncontrollable stress

I'm stressed when I hear life-questioning threats

I have threats that I've given to all my regrets

I try to piece back together my already fractured life

Try to be the person they want and indirectly spite

Try to live up to expectations; even though they're too high

I need to be happy; I can't keep living this life.

you know when people break in movies

books and stories?

How you know because they turned into villains

or to depressed to do anything, a fact that stands.

So, what about the people that aren't allowed to break?

Who have to stay whole because to much is at stake?

the people that no matter what smile

and never cry, not even every once in a while

the people who hold together like a thrown glass

refusing to break no matter what they pass

you can throw it from a hundred feet up

but its just a stubborn glass cup

What happens when they break?

when they lose everything at stake

the thing is, they don't

they just won't

Some cracks will be visible

but nothing that can't be hidden by an angle

the feeling of wanting to do the hunting

but not the killing

leaning on the edge, the precipice

something you can't practice.

Something that has to come naturally

and they keep a smile, never break against everything miraculously

because they can't. They're the tittle.

In between the fake smiles of life

Lies a world left unromanticized.

Thy happiness is an altered parody,

Making the case for an unfiltered life.

When the world has put on the mask

With two versions of themselves,

I affirm myself with the only soul I have,

For now, it's time to unfilter our lives.

Ease up on the loads on the shoulder,

For now is the time for self-rule.

Like a wild forest left silent,

It's time for introspection.

Fantasies make one feel happy,

For they do not require much thought.

Dreams are sweeter until one wakes up.

But keeping the ball running

Is the ultimate joyful lesson from life.