early.

“The calm silence of the first snow, wind drifitng through the woods. The sea waves crashing on the sands of time. The silent fields, praries and moores as the breeze convered them. The sound of silence in the city at night. White noise and peace. A calm tranquillity that has never quite been achieved.

White noise.

Calm before the storm

“Her face- hidden. By the shadow of the night she crept. In the light she was mocked and made fun of. In the dark she hid from them. She, a mess in her own eyes and in the eyes of others, was perfect in the eyes of few.”

Hidden.

Mocked by many, seen perfect by few

“She saw the world through 2 clear, thin, glass disks; her vision altered forever, never seeing the same away again.

Sight.

Altered forever, never the same

“Pencils scratching, fans blowing, pages turning, feet shuffling, heaters and AC gently humming, wind howling, rain pattering, people whispering, music playing. THe newfound silence stunned her, it was strange. She needed the white noise to function.”

White noise II.

Background noise that’s always needed

“The ocean stared at her as she wept. The salt of her tears melted into the salt of the ocean.”

Ocean.

Never the same water twice.

(Here are a few of my earliest pieces of poery)