Unbroken Soul

It was the kind of thing you say will never happen to you, the sort of thing that someone else goes through. It was a dream, and now a distant nightmare I try not to think about, but can't help and play reruns of. Makes you want to listen to blues and drink wine until you can't tell if you're awake or alive. Had me screaming at mirrors like this stranger had something to do with my current conspiracy. Who the hell is this bitch messing with my pride? This little scared girl in the reflection who clearly doesn't belong in my peripheral vision.

The hardest thing I've ever been through, like swallowing glass by verbal gun point, makes you wonder if the pain is worth it. All the scars remind you everyday of your life, is that living? One little bullet made of words could have taken all of that away, but I don't know what's out there. Woman with less than I, and more than I've dreamt of dealing with pull through it everyday. One of my greatest accomplishments and greatest downfalls all in the same short time period.

My heart might have been broken, but my soul was solid. In fact it was joyful, because I lived to tell about it, lived to bring my story to others, lived.

Sleep With The Enemy Music Video

Fake Straight

Let's just say that I had to double check I was using the phrase "power topper" in the correct contents in order to write this song.

Comments?

Rain Drops on My Soul

My cup is half full.

It is not my intention for it to get below that specific point at any one time. Although, sometimes when I go to fill it again, there simply isn't anything left to put in. They will say what they want. Say it to your face, without any courtesy to your back. They will criticize what they want.

Them…..

Those people….

The ones you've never met; the ones whom are closes to you.

It doesn't matter what the relationship is, they will say it without regard for their own tongue. They will say it without thinking of how sharp it is, of what they might hurt between the travels from their vocal cords to their lips to my ears. Everyone is a critic. Everyone does it better. It starts with the hair, clothes, weight, make up, lyrics, beat, mix, performance, integrity, and personality. Everything is critiqued. Nothing is sacred. Not even from the ones whom you share it all; not even from yourself.

There are times when I feel my soul is drowning in critique.

Critique from myself, from others, from strangers.

Try as I may, I fear that if these critiques get to me, my soul will drown unable to be revived to it's original beauty.

Be gentle with my soul

Be good to your lips and keep a dull tongue

Make This Beat Behave

I've had a few, but not too many, I'd rather catch another kind of high tonight. Close my eyes and let the music move my body outside itself. Now and then I catch the breeze from the fans above, just enough to feel but not enough to keep the sweat from running down the back of my neck prompting me to use my fingers as a temporary hair piece. It all flows together like Van Gogh, the fan, the sweat, hair, fingers. The dance floor is all that's left and the rest of the painting melts around my very soul while I bleed into the mix of the music.

That is, until the DJ lost it.

The mix was all wrong, the colors didn't work. Suddenly, my master piece was melting before my ears. Little by little my beauty was being stolen by a thief with two turn tables and no sense of heart. No No No. You're murdering those tracks, and yet you're still not killing 'em. You're just slowly suffocating them by providing an insufficient amount of oxygen, those songs don't breath together. My beautiful painting, my blissful dance, you are being taken and I feel you slipping from my grasp, but then out of no where..there is hope.

What do I hear?

Erykah, Fugees, Jurassic5 flowing evenly and poetically together as one.

Here I am bliss, my Van Gogh forming once again.

That is, until the DJ lost it....

Someone Please: Make This Beat Behave.

You Never Knew Me....

There was a time before your name.

I swear to god I wasn't always like this, if you could only see the girl I was before you.

Since you, I'm broken, I don't recognize these pieces of me in the mirror.

Where did this girl come from?

She

Is a stranger to me and everyone she knows.

I don't like her.

I feel sorry for her.

I, would never be one of those girls...

If you only knew me before you met me.

If you could see the whole puzzle and not just these parts.

Then you would see how strong I am, then you would see I wouldn't put up with this.

Hello girl?

Where are you?

Where did you hide to when you met him?

If you only knew me when I didn't care if you were around, when I didn't know your name.

If you only knew me, if you only knew me at all, but you don't.

You don't even know my name, it's not baby, sweetie, bitch or dear.

Did I forget to introduce her when we met?

I'll take the blame for that, how can I expect you to know she is there?

Hello...

My Name is Tiffany Grace, I'm moody, loving, hard headed, won't always admit when I'm wrong, sometimes I hate make up, there are days when I cannot even stand myself, I am gorgeous, funny, strong, insecure, talented, curious, a little bit of a flirt, too much of a bitch, caring, out of the norm, scared, happy, sad, and that's just the start of my day.

It's nice to meet you.

Do you love me now?

Tell Me Why

There is something to be said for the moment when you realize that you're wrong. Although, it is what's not said that presents the most damage. When did our ego's become so delicate? At what point in our lives did we decide that being right, was more important, than...well...doing right?

It's always a struggle, love, just when you think you have it all figured out there it goes changing again. Springtime is here, the birds are chirping the sun is coming out from hibernation and everyone is in love. Do you know what I sometimes wonder? I wonder if people feel trapped by love because we chose to refer to it as "being in love", it's like people think their stuck in it. Then you fall out of love, and that just sounds painful.

So, here we are, us never satisfied creatures, either stuck in love, or painfully falling out of it! Well, you just can't win, can you? You don't want to be stuck, and you don't want to be hurt. For the love of God, what the hell do you people want? From now on I am going to call it, being around love. Doesn't that sound pleasant, to be around and surrounded by l-o-v....uh oh wait, I'm surrounded!! Let me out, let me out!! How about be just it, Love. There isn't a need to attach another word to it. I mean after all, Love is all you need, right?