The usally lively nature of a person's mouth depicts what current mood the user is baring. In fact I have taught myself how to read whether a person is mad or content by what they're saying and what shape their mouth is in. For example, I have found that my mother has no positive word to speak. But when she does, you can see her lips betray her; no word of pride may pass those lips without disgust. Her mouth brings forth contempt. The conversations that I have with my mother are no longer conversations, but lectures I recieve. I have learned that lecture is on its way when the corners of her mouth begin to migrate to her ears. Her mouth moves into an almost delighted positon. Her upper lip curls under itself as she takes the first initial breath. The way her bottom lip turns into itself as though its trying to hide its self-rightious behavior. When in the wrong, it's the chin that beams the truth. The quiver is what tells me I shouldn't try to defend my position because her pride will tell me I'm wrong and shut me down with a barrage of spiteful remarks. If I ever plan to walk away from any war, I had to learn to keep my lips still and my voice silent.
I tend to prefer peace, such as a lily in an open meadow. I make a concerted effort to avoid most conflict. But when I disagree, my lips become still, my face emotionless. All life around me is irrelevant. My sanity becomes the only thing I try to maintain. When pushed over the edge my voice becomes wild my brain shoots for the stars, and my mouth, possessed by judgement and opinions, begins to cream. My mother has yet to snap my sanity, has yet to experience the feeling of bewilderment my words would bring her. My lips will one day be the one to scare her, my lips will shadow my silence and bring forth the truth that will set her hellish grimace into a cemented orgiginal facee. One with no spite and no pride and has no control over me. Her lips cast a wicked spell, and soon my still settled mouth will wage the war to set me free.