I thought you loved me, so why do I feel this way?
Like it’s just something you say when the moment seems right,
not something that actively lives in your heart and mind every day.
Feelings are just that, feelings. But it’s also because of them, that we do the things we do.
It’s because of our feelings, our desires for one another and hopes to execute shared dreams, that we invest and feed each other’s souls.
What do we do when it all seems to be in jeopardy?
When you wonder if it was all an illusion?
You lied to me; I lied to myself.
Perhaps it is me.
I’m my own worst enemy.
Pic shot by me in Prospect Park, Brooklyn.
It was too easy;
the lies rolled off your tongue
like flooded waters.
Something once peaceful
now a messy nuisance.
The water expands,
the salt corrodes,
everything is damaged in its wake.
Speaking the language of pain,
longing to be accepted and loved.
Fighting this battle has become a pastime,
Engaging in scenarios that trigger fears, anxieties, insecurities.
Throwing herself into the mix with dysfunctional characters
who can’t get past their silly egos;
their fragile self-perceptions.
But you know, maybe it’s her,
Maybe it’s because she’s broken.
via Daily Prompt: Broken
A title can never dictate how the heart feels.
Nor does it define a relationship.
It can’t rationalize the bullshit swept under the rug.
Titles, formalities, ceremonies – seemingly emphasized more than the quality of the relationship.
What happens when the ceremony that’s supposed to usher you into a life of partnered stability, protection, and safety causes distress?
When the vows and foundation are broken,
when heartache sprouts like weeds through concrete.
Pic taken by me in Brooklyn, New York
via Daily Prompt: Ceremony
Though I’ve been reckless and selfish,
our memories are engrained in my mind.
Your tender words have been inscribed on my heart;
Perhaps they were lies,
Perhaps it was the truth that you were too afraid to accept;
I hope it’s the latter, no matter how dangerous that may be.
Shot by me, NYC.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing,
that’s what he was.
Every now and then you questioned his sincerity,
claiming to be soft and tender like the sheep,
yet he stepped on you with paws,
encased talons ripped your heart to shreds.
When aggravated or displeased,
he gnarled like an angry wolf,
ready to pounce;
willing to taste your blood on his tongue.
Not simply a malcontent,
a completely different animal.
You reached for him.
In a moment’s notice,
pulled off his cloak,
unsheathed his identity.
He recoiled in cowardice,
He wanted to disappear.
Shot by me at Queens County Farm.
via Daily Prompt: Disappear
Beware of unclear boundaries and unspoken expectations.
Pic shot by me in Financial District, NYC.
A relationship extended beyond its expiration date;
each lacked the courage to leave,
to walk away from that which was unfulfilling.
Compromising satisfaction for familiarity,
because of time invested.
Never mind the instability,
the pain inflicted upon one another.
What was thought to be “love,”
was only selfishness.
Then you ask yourself,
did you live a lie?
Our hearts beat for one another
While simultaneously being torn apart.
They leave messy trails behind them,
physically and emotionally;
the boys who break hearts
The empty love that wafted
so effortlessly off their lips
and into the mouths of the unassuming;
they whispered reassurances
during moments of weakness,
only to break said promises later
Their actions show that their words carried no weight
They lash out in fits of anger and break things;
to show strength,
to release the ugly energy
They break up homes and come from broken homes
Capable of breaking others, they manipulate;
the smart ones find the right woman
and break her too,
because ‘strong women need to be broken’
Is there hope for the broken boys who’ve lost their way?
Those who carry the stench of darkness
and wear it like a badge of honor –
an undercurrent that runs so deep
You almost feel bad for them
they have the bravery to act on their brokenness
You hide from yours and bury your inner torments
then you feel sorry for yourself,
because you’re broken too
and that’s what broken people do.
Pic taken by me at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery
you drank them like fine wine;
they intoxicated your spirit,
you danced in the madness
The whispers of sweet nothings,
that’s all you have to hold on to
but you hold them dear to your heart.
Pic taken by me, a summer night in Miami, FL.