Previously published as on Amazon
Elements of Peace: Work of Selfless Art Self-Awareness, Affliction, Epitome
Prolific is an understatement to the challenges crushed within abrupt showing. Expressions of peace will examine the presence of self-awareness, and through self-awareness bores an achieved status of peace.
For these are the examples of change one can seek.
- Author, T’Aja Cameron
Table of Contents
I think about the times of my childhood. The days she wouldn’t’t interact with me and I suddenly felt unnoticed.
He’d even do the same.
Never realizing those same patterns show— Like a machine, its repetitious.
Slicing room for more wounds.
But today she utters the very words.
I just wanted him to love me. I just wanted him to see me.
All of which she knew herself, the man she chose to love would be like a cycle of continued grief.
So now I have this over standing pain knocking so heavy on my chest.
I can’t understand why my heart feels so empty when I think of my family.
You had a chance to clear this up.
And instead of texting you should have spoken to her.
It’s a time to discuss things.
But he wants no one to see his mistakes and that’s not helping anybody.
We keep hurting each other and that’s obvious.
I just feel like things are complicated.
Nothing has changed.
Everyone has their own agenda, masking their own griefs. Never stopping to face the light of their truth.
You’ve been caught.
Intuition peaks every dawn.
It was only a moment ago, I pondered in silence.
I practiced this ritual most days and wondered off into the abyss of clouds.
One can only spend so much time alone.
Existence of self. An intuition of peace overshadows the doubt and the bearing weight of numbness
How can a person survive or thrive in the abyss of silence — Ongoing transgressions of hate.
Acceptance of rebirth.
Can you recall your rebirth?
Intuition of peace.
Channeling the feelings of transparency, change can be sought after.
Parts of your soul remaining only into pieces. Can you choose life over death at the end of shallow misfortunes?
The thought always pondered.
The end was near of unanticipated death. The death of one’s old journey, only to be a fate memory.
A stranger to a new dawn.
Bloomed so beautifully.
The end near.
Allow me to show you something.
So naive she became. Blinded by lustful fate.
Only an illusion. Distrustful of change, morning peak is when he came. Intertwined love and euphoric release. We could do this all day I thought. Lips of peace he spoke, touches so warmly — I could never forget.
Intertwining souls of relevance.
Connected and Close.
Dreams of nurture finally ended.
It was never real.
Intricately woven into my core.
It’s triggering to feel the sharp pain of the dual edged sword.
The sharpening pain of truth – I could no longer escape.
Plunging into the depths of the lesson; it was far too much.
Emotionless in the face of pain. No one heard the screams of help.
Suffocated in waves of anxiety. Misfortunes flourishing in her eyes.
They filled with tears —
Long expressions of arousal only through pain and suffering. Images of a savior often appeared freely.
flowing thoughts of, save me please … Save me…
If anyone could hear these thoughts of sorrow, the light would dim in which they approved of her in.
Expressions of fear seeped through all I wanted.
I just needed to feel grounded—because I noticed of sense of death.
I was scared that it felt near way too often.
Was it nearby?
Or did I call its name.
Did I imagine the symphonic death of one’s existence, connectivity disfigured amongst souls? I wanted to give up. There was no one here to save me.
I felt so alone.
I had been without for so long, floating just seemed to feel easier. Watching over one’s mistakes, and comfortably meditating on her prayers.
No one heard a thing.
Expressions of fear had torn through my soul. I was blinded by darkness, infatuated with numbness. I felt the presence of a savior— intuition of self—
Particularly I’m not one to express my emotions, but I thought I’d try a constructive process of writing them.
So here it goes,
My life has brought me much joy but only a cupful.
I’ve lived a safe life, provided for and loved.
And somehow the pain overshadowed every single moment of my 20 years.
I imagined this cycle of sadness would end many years ago, roughly into my childhood.
I imagined my mind would be at ease,
slower to process thoughts and feelings
but in a deeply concerned way.
To be calm and collected. But always remember to speak and be involved.
And over the years I’ve yet to follow this proverb
and I’ve yet to admit my mistakes to myself.
I’d be afraid to show this to a soul, but maybe reveal to a few.
I’d be judged within seconds of self-pity, and an ungrateful spirit.
And I think to myself,
I’m not good at revealing what’s truly the issue
but I question myself in moments of silence.
And if I want to be here.
I watch myself in moments of silence,
from the outside looking in.
I wanted to speak to myself
and show my grievances for the pain that wore my face.
Intuition of self-revealed.
Mists of confusions lifted within my spirit.
Joy arrived as I peaked into my soul
- T’Aja Cameron
T’Aja Cameron is a talented and prolific writer. She shares her insights exploring vivid expressions of a third person perspective. Her ability to connect with emotional turmoil through words gives expression to the piece itself.
She is a graduating senior from Kennesaw State University who possesses many skills within writing. Poetry being her safe haven, T’Aja writes to influence the readers own expressions, challenging one to explore their own cycles.
“T’Aja Cameron creates poems so powerful; you can hear the words echo as you’re reading them. Captivating and sometimes crushing, this book will leave you tear-jerked. Cameron evaluates honest concerns in relationships—romantic, familial and self—with an equally earnest and tender tone.”
- Lauren Clough
“Elegant and eloquent tackling of some of today’s most delicate and wide-spread issues. T’Aja writes about trauma, outgrowing one’s family, and becoming one’s own knight in shining armor. “
“T’Aja shows you the sad parts of life, her poems reflect all the sad emotions that you feel in your lifetime. She shows you the emotions you feel from childhood, teenage years, and adult years. Her poems are written with so much grief and heartbreak, however they shine with the most beautiful stories.”
- Abigail Palmer