Why are we slaves to our subconscious?
As children, we are given love.
We breathe love and celebrate it
When we grow older, we open our hearts to another.
Why does our first love mark the end of our feel of love?
As our hearts become tainted with agony,
We replace that initial careless feeling with the pain.
When we recover, we trust less.
How can you ever love again?
Is it possible for you to remember the first feel of love?
The frightful beating of your heart escaping your chest
Trembling tears underneath your eyes that remain unexplained
What was love before you loved?
Did you picture something great?
That innocent picture that lighted up in your head,
Daydreaming.
Someone new, someone brings that from you,
Routines run old and weary as time goes by.
If that match cannot be sparked,
What is the point of living?
It is best you let it go now
For the memories will haunt you forever.
Posted by Ana Castillo. Posted In : Poetry
Media Studies Major at Queens College
Photographer, Writer and Enthusiast
The world is my my book,
I edit the pages.
