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
There’s something about the way you observe people,
you notice the little things;
it intrigues me.
Pic taken by me, Prospect Park
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.
Shrouded in darkness, the overbearing weight of negativity
creeping in like the fog that rolls in overnight.
A silent killer,
eating at me from the inside.
In no time,
I got lost in the dense, opaqueness
All the thoughts in my mind,
Leave when there’s nothing left to lose.
Eventually, you’ll lose your sanity.
Your conscious burdened,
like heavy snowfall on tree branches.