Hilary D Zamora writes and paints

Daesha and I had our arms outstretched and our heads back with our eyes up pointed at the sky, while the snow fell quietly with a dedication to covering the ground. In our hair and eyelashes it fell, just these tiny weightless diamonds, and I knew this was it. It was over. I'd never come here again. And so we spun, slowly, as it fell down, down, down. We both realized that we wouldn’t see each other again, unless we met later as adults. It was only three years until I turned eighteen, but it seemed a life sentence. We’d surrendered to the solemn realization, wholly subdued by the gravity of what had just happened. As we gazed upward we didn't speak, allowing the snowflakes to spellbind our solemn last few minutes. It was serene and reposeful , everything still, like we‘d been locked away in a fragment of time, a moment trapped inside a snow globe. ~Hilary D Zamora

 

Hilary D Zamora writes and paints

I lost years in the cycle of narcotic oblivion. While some followed the path of destruction, settling in, others seemingly got out in time. I hung back, lingering idly, solely focused on my affair with my monster, my truth, my one and only. ~Hilary D Zamora

Hilary D Zamora writes and paints

Off to the side was a rusty swing set missing one swing, and the second, dangled idly from one chain, like a broken arm. With a few forgotten toys littered about, the scene instantly saddened me. The big plastic colorful fortress for young children to play on was partially dismantled. With yellow, blue, and green segments faded from the sun, they reminded me of a slow healing bruise. Each part lying in disarray, broken from their past, provided an ideal metaphor for what was inside. I couldn’t imagine children playing here behind the chain link fence which was battered with its history. For some reason seeing rusting and demolished toys instilled in me a bitter sorrow I couldn’t identify, a reminder of someone’s vanished, unsafe and unstable, haunted childhood. ~Hilary D Zamora

Hilary D Zamora writes and paints

I was spinning faster and faster in the dynamic world of chemical conflict. I aspired to be bigger and better and more hardcore than everyone around me. I’d convinced myself I could take more than anyone I hung around with and be fine and satisfied. My tolerance was ever-elevating. Trouble was, rarely was I actually gratified. I felt indestructible and at the same time quite vulnerable in the worry of where the next fix would come from. But when I wasn't consumed with the immediate future, my height in chemical harmony was soaring. ~Hilary D Zamora