The Drought

Through these eyes, a spectrum of beauty throughout the city is had. Happening upon the perfect platform is a treasure in its discovery for I am able to experiment and express how I view all that surrounds me.

When I share my perspective of beauty I hope for others to find inspiration and to discover they have is a humbling awareness.

Pairing prose and captures are a part of who I am and as of late inspiration has eluded me and in effect, writing ceased. A drained pool of words brought on a flood of darkness and impulse and my fingers spoke…

“When toxicity intervenes and soils a path I’ve begun to run and look back to find that path is no where to be seen I drop to my knees and weep.  I pound my fists to the ground and the fury burning deep beneath my skin expels an anger and hurt buried within.
My core shakes and the ground cracks and crumbles. I fall, I reach and I scream, no one hears and as warm salty tears fall even faster from my eyes, I relent to the darkness… and the cold void awaiting me…”

Not to imply a message for others to fret, I simply am human and the effect of a few words a friend/foe spoke to me that my writing was of insufficient content ripped a hole in my heart. Without verbal response I only sat in silence and wept inside creating a drought.

Easier said than done, if others rip a hole in your heart and crush what inspires you, cry, scream, run and when you’ve exerted that toxic energy, cry, scream and run forward like you’ve never done before and let that feed you to health.