Lack of Light Behind Her Eyes

She is an expert at arranging her face
So that her thoughts are not seen through her eyes
She can laugh and smile to mask the fact
That she actually is broken inside

Her inside is merely an abandoned, old house
Littered with glass and covered in mould
It's not very pretty, and no one else knows
Because she'd rather bluff, than fold

But some found the house, abandoned and cold
Standing alone on the top of a street
They brought in supplies, and rebuilt the house
Until it could stand, proud and complete

She thought they wouldn't notice her broken-down house
Or the lack of light behind her eyes
But there were people who loved her and they couldn't be fooled
By the joker of her disguise.

The Art of Breathing

Breathe in

Drops of dew on the petals of a daisy
Piping hot soup on a day that is lazy
Mist over cities, making everything hazy
but the lights poking holes in the skyline

Breathe out

The smell of an oven with an almost-done roast
The wild sea crashing upon a rock-lined coast
Butter melting on a slice of hot toast
With a steaming cup of tea on the side

Breathe in

Washing the dirt off slightly-grazed knees
Finally finding your recently-lost keys
Taking a walk and admiring the trees
And the dappled light that sifts to the ground

Breathe out

Finding a story in which to get lost
Early morning grass with icing-sugar frost
Sunsets and sunrises that only just last
Long enough to look at in wonder

In a world filled with darkness, suffering and pain,
Which throws shadow over any hint of light
You can't stop the sun from rising again
Because everything will be alright.