Feelings are just that, feelings.
It’s also because of them, that we do the things we do.
It’s because of our feelings, our desires for one another,
that we hope 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.
So much time spent trying to represent strength, because of fear.
Fear of being vulnerable; that somehow vulnerability equates to weakness.
But it doesn’t.
Strength also means being receptive, understanding that emotions are messy and complex.
We’re human beings with a penchant for making things harder than they need to be.
Photo taken by me at Domino Park, Williamsburg.
Trying to make sense of things and it just never happens.
Some days or moments, I’m spared and can feel pure elation, happiness.
Some days or moments I feel absolutely weary.
Photo shot by me, Prospect Park.
a home isn’t a home;
only a place to rest your head.
Shot by me in Crown Heights, Brooklyn.
It’s all unknown,
simply left with our desires of what we may or may not want in our lives –
present and future tense.
Shot by me in Prospect Park, Brooklyn
A young girl from Queens,
Central Park was my playground.
E, F, and R trains, with direct routes to Midtown,
placing you at the entrance or within walking distance.
Climbing up and down monstrous rocks and boulders,
quite a feat for a child-
Rollerblading on paved park streets of concrete,
swerving in and out of big orange cones.
All weekend hobbies of mine.
Taking breaks between classes,
During four years at Fordham University –
my alma a few blocks away, at Lincoln Center.
Central Park, it was my campus.
Walking through the park with
Friends, family, and lovers,
Walking through the park to work,
Part-time gig a few blocks away on
5th Avenue, New York’s tourist trap
and shopping strip.
Central Park reminds me of my youth,
of my young adulthood,
of my strong connection to the New York
that raised me.
Shot by me in Central Park, New York
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
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.
Leave when there’s nothing left to lose.
Eventually, you’ll lose your sanity.
Your conscious burdened,
like heavy snowfall on tree branches.
Slaves to time,
a concept that
quietly dictates our lives.
Getting things done
while waiting for it to pass,
so we can overcome certain feelings,
and look forward to pleasantries.
We anticipate events and outcomes;
We live as if time really is a linear concept
But what is time really?
How do you define it?
an omnipresent shadow.
If there’s one thing to know about time,
there’s only the present moment.
Picture taken by me in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.