i wish my love was enough
to pay the sea so its waves
could take me to where you are
i wish my love was strong enough
to move mountains and planets
to make our universes align
i wish i could love you enough
to end the growing miles between us

i. he is a dancer,
he moves with such grace
he's spent his youth
dancing in front of mirrors,
he knows the way his body moves
as much as he is sure of himself

ii. he is starlight
he has seen the cosmos
and through his smile
he shares the wonders of the world
i could never see for myself

iii. he is a gentleman
he regards everyone sincerely
chivalrous in his beauty,
he walks with kindness
and acts with heart

iv. he is a storyteller
after his past of good and bad,
he is what he says
words stream from his mind
like rain drops on windows
he speaks with purpose
without ever intending to hurt anyone
but only wanting to love

v. he is my lionheart,
he braves the flashing lights
he does not mind being himself
raw and out in the open
he carries his books around
and can be silly without a care

vi. he is a wonder
shining among the chaos of his world,
and even king midas could not
conjure a heart as golden as his.

it's strange—
on some nights,
i lie down on my bed
in the evening heat only Manila could give,
i feel like my soul drifts from
this body i could never love,
it decides to leave and venture off elsewhere
because i'm always just wishing i were somewhere else

then suddenly, i feel the weight of my bones again
i'm back in my bedroom,
and my body is sinking into the mattress
because when i realize i'm still where i am,
i want to disappear instead

adam and eve took the forbidden fruit
and were banished from the light of heaven,
the great warrior achilles was defeated
in his pride and grief on the grounds of troy,
mount vesuvius erupted and at once pompeii fell to ashes,
joan of arc was burnt at the stake in the name of her battles,
rome plunged to its failure upon the arrival of vanquishers

these are some of the greatest falls from grace,
and although time is filled to the brim with such,
the world had never seen an undoing quite as great as hers—

**she saw his face,
she heard his song,
and the rest became history.

i wish i could have helped you fly
i wish i could have given you wings crafted by Hephaestus himself
i wish i did not have to see you fall
blinded by the light of the sun
as you sank into the depths of the ocean

i wish i could have caught you with my arms
when all you wanted was to be free
i wish i could have saved you
before you flew too close to the sun
and melted your wings

our universes never shared
any sort of symmetry,
parallel as they will always be,
but icarus, i do not know why
i carry the weight of your undoing.

dear icarus,

i've watched you toil your youth away
all because you have been growing your wings of freedom
to be freed from the life you are locked in

with your calloused hands,
you have put on your wings of feathers and wax,
you are ready to fly across oceans
and escape from this labyrinth
of loneliness and fatigue

but icarus, remember those wings may break
you're shining boyishly, you're coming close to all those stars like stage lights
after aching and fading in the dark
you are seeing the sun for the first time
and it is all you want
but even the brightest and prettiest of lights can burn you out

icarus, come back safely
remember the world beneath you
and the love that the earth
has given you all these years
fly back down here
and i will do all i can to keep you safe.
before the ocean of wreckage pulls you into its depths
and it is too late

he's a heartbreaker with the world at his fingertips,
he glows nonchalantly without trying,
he's devil-may-care, he laughs freely like cherubs
and his life is set out like a map,
the distance between us ever growing

and i am merely another flower in bloom
among a field of daisies,
i walk on pavements with my head down,
so adrift, a deer caught in the headlights,
and i'm always wishing i were somewhere else

but despite the differences of our universes, i wonder,
does he ever get lonely too?
does he still have time to stop and smell the flowers?
is there somebody he can talk to?
and does he think about what it is like
to live an ordinary life like mine?

perhaps on one cloudy day,
by chance, if the universe would allow,
an unlikely exchange could transpire—
he can hide from those flashing lights
and i can run from my worries,
and on a little bench where our disparate worlds will collide,
we can sit together
to simply talk and watch the world go by.

Alone.
By September until who knows when, that is how I will start and end my days.
Calm mornings will no longer begin with the sound of your chatter.
Dead silence will fill the air as I eat my dinner all alone.
Every empty chair will be a reminder that you are not home.
From spending almost every waking hour together, we will only exchange brief messages each day.
Growing up has led us to this—one of you in Manila and the other one in Tokyo.
I’ll feel stuck in the four corners of my little room while you’re both someplace else.
Just the thought of not having both of you around makes me feel like a deer caught in the headlights.
Kisses, embraces, and affectionate teasing only older sisters could ever give will become less frequent…
Loneliness is something I have never known.
Mom and Dad will still be here, but they will be busy too, and I would not want to bother them.
Nothing will fill in the spaces of the house the way they’re occupied while you’re here—
One of you painting in watercolor by the windowsill, the other one listening to music until the wee hours of the morning.
Please always tell me about your day while you’re away, no matter how ordinary or great it may be.
Q¬uiet the noises that will shout in the head of a younger sister who is all alone.
Rise and live the way you have always wanted, but don’t forget about me.
Shine to the world the way you shine in my eyes.
Think of me as I think of you.
Ultimately, all I will do will come down to waiting for you to come back home.
Vinyls we share will rarely spin, the books we borrow from one another will be left to dust on the shelves.
What was once a house filled to the brim with voices and love only sisters could have will feel spacious and empty.
Xylophone clanging and the strumming of the guitar from the childhood we shared will seem so distant, but I will do all I can to make it feel like you are not far away—
Your favorite song will come up on the radio on some nights and I will sing along as we would sing together:
*“Ziggy played guitar, jamming good with Weird and Gilly, and the spiders from Mars….”

of all the lives i could have lived,
i am glad i happen
to be in the same lifetime as yours.

but again here comes the world,
with all its silly ironies—
its vastness that sets people apart
miles and miles;
our paths crossing
is quite out of the picture.

i know this.
you don't.
i think of you.
you don't.

but why do i keep waiting for you
as if i'd suddenly find you outside,
standing by my door
and waiting for me too?

my love,
you've no reason to fear you'll fade out.
your presence will echo through mountains,
your laughter is a song i'll sing for years,
your light will always guide
city dwellers as they make their way
to their little coffee shops and offices,
your dance will live in the way flowers sway,
your doe eyes will live in the wonders of the stars

and when the world turns to ashes
i promise
your golden heart will remain intact
and the words you wrote will never die
because how could i
ever forget a face like yours?

silly me, i've been watching sunsets all alone
silly me, i feel displacement in a place i'm supposed to call home
silly me, i don't take those happy pills every night
silly me, i feel empty inside
silly me, all i think about are people and places far away
silly me, i thought i was already alright
silly me, i lost the rhythm of life again

you always say you were never good with words,
but it's your wide eyes
and strong hands, soft touch,
that speak to me in hushed tones

as for me, my heart goes wild
with mad love and adoration for you,
so much that when i try to speak
the words stumble and i am tongue tied

so it always ends with you
and me
and the quiet
and the way we both lack a way with words,
yet the comfortable silence we share
amplifies the light of love
bursting in our hearts

this house we built out of love
has fallen under the weight
of needing each other
with the miles and oceans
that separate us.
our bones are breaking
and we are drowning
in the dirt
in the rubble of our memories,
the smoke chokes us
and we cannot breathe.

the weight in my chest
tell me that i simply want to be
where you are.

i'm sorry i look at you in disgust,
i'm sorry i hate you
even when you fight
so your bones don't break
under the burden of my being,
i'm sorry i'm always wishing
i were in some other body,
i'm sorry i neglect you
and think you're not enough,
i'm sorry i've bruised and scarred
what once used to be your pristine skin,
i'm sorry i tell you
you are not worthy and beautiful enough

i'm sorry i can't learn to love you
when you're all i'll ever have

i have traversed the galaxies through time,
i have glided on saturns rings,
i have swung from the sun's rays like vines,
and i have seen the brightest of stars ignite into space dust—
yet nothing the heavenly bodies
and all of the cosmos offered
could ever come close to the brightness of your being.
and perhaps some day,
the constellations will lead me to you.

darling, don't be light years away—
come into my universe.

being a city girl with dreams is no good
when you're stuck in the middle of a grid.
you're choked by the smoke,
blinded by the lights,
trapped in the traffic,
and silenced by the busy streets
so much that if you sat by an open window sill
and screamed your heart out,
you would not be heard.

how could i ever feel so grand,
so boisterous about my being
when the world is so big
and full of people, places, love,
and life i've yet to see?
i am nothing, i am not superior to anyone or anything,
yet i am a part of the machinery,
a piece of the grand scheme—
i am a rain drop among storms,
i am one leaf among many that fall in autumn,
i am a cloud floating by,
i am a an asterism among a greater constellation
i am an element of something greater than myself—
and yes, i am small, but i am important.
i still matter, and so do you.

scream into the void
run into the night
stop these voices
fix this broken heart
listen to this voice hoarse from screaming
heal these bruises
forgive these sins
wipe these tears
close these wounds
lift the weight
get me out of this mess
get me out of my head.

at times, i wish i hadn't learned to love so much.

there is always a lingering weight in my chest;
my heart, already fragile enough,
fights to carry it through every waking moment.

hellos are my favorite things, but they're merely precursors
to the poison of goodbyes, to the sickness of loneliness
and the yearning to be elsewhere
in other places, with certain people.  

tears fall as quickly as grins go from ear to ear,
roaring laughter easily fades into deafening silence,
and this wishy-washy soul is one i could never get a hold of.

but what would i be without love,
without the burden of feeling?
what would i be without the days spent day dreaming,
the moments i run out of breath
from gushing about people and moments,
the nights spent crying all alone,
and being vulnerable to the world,
but feeling the best of it anyway?

i love, but i hurt.
i hurt, but i love.
and that is all that matters.

i'll pick the blues that you carry
in your heart like flowers.

let's crawl up trees like Morning Glory vines
so we can watch the world, just us two.

let's make our hearts burst into petals
with all the love we can give to each other.

let's sway with the wind like fields of Dandelions,
let's dance the pain away
even though i have two left feet.

let's be flowers,
let's love tenderly and beautifully,
and heal our torn leaves
under the light of the sun.

i am a silent soul,
forget about me, if you must.

but one day you'll wake up
to find my bed made, but empty.
i will be off to nowhere,
but i will get everywhere.

i'll scatter myself from the sky like ashes,
i'll fall like the rains of July,
i'll kiss mountain tops like the snow of December,
i'll drift around like the golden leaves of October,
and i will be left to the wind.

i will no longer be a soul
trapped in this cage of flesh and bones,
i will run through the world,
writing post cards about all i will see and do,
but sending them to nobody.

The morning after is when the heart is at its heaviest.
Remnants of the night before are broken in fragments,
barely alive but still breathing, like wilting flowers—
Neon lights, stolen glances, cups of coffee, roaring laughter, moments when you feel like you're in love—
They turn to memories left in a time
that isn't far away just yet,
But the distance of just a few hours
makes you feel lonelier than ever.
*(The past within your reach, yet impossible to grasp once again.)

there's a certain way some parts of the city
are covered in graffiti that's impossible to erase.
there's a certain way my parents never forget
to kiss my forehead at least once a day.
there's a certain way some gardener in the countryside
remembers to water his rosebeds every morning.
there's a certain way the waves
never leave the shore for any of the ocean's secrets.

and in those same ways,
i want you to never forget me.

i am distant,
i am drifting through space.
i am floating,
i am paddling through waves.
i am hiding,
i am alone among the flowers.
i am dreaming,
i am half awake through each day.

i am closing the door,
i am leaving this body,
i am okay with being alone,
i am saying goodbye.

nobody looks for me anyway—
and that's alright

it's all okay,
it's all alright,
finally.

things get weird,
it gets bad,
suddenly.

there's no reason why,
things get me down,
quickly.

i don't know,
i don't understand,
how this goes.

things get better,
then they fall apart for no reason,
and it all goes to ****.

doe-eyed darling illuminated in stage lights,
schoolboy wanderer with ambition,
devil-may-care child of Adonis—
you are an artist in every breath and movement,
your voice is music in itself,
you turn your struggles into rhyme and reason,
your thoughts are a mirage of pastels,
you are unreal, a canvas upon which
youth paints its wonders on

you are so in love with the world,
every night i look to the stars
and hope the universe lets you see as much of it as you please

*and oh, how i'd love to be by your side through it all

i miss the aching cold of autumn and spring.
the winds would blow at any time of day and
although my skin would crack
and my knees would shiver,
i remember the way i would see my own breath
right in front of me whenever i'd laugh,
i remember walking around, burning my tongue
with the heat of the delicious street food,
i remember tucking my hands in my oversized coat
as i sat in the train and sped by little houses–

the happiness i felt in those days kept my little heart warm.

i feel like i am being held by the throat
and my eyes drip with tears
and my chest feels heavy
and i don't know what to do
because all i want is to be where you are

it's a resounding voice in my head,
"be more. be more. be more. be more. be more. be more."
there's a fire in my heart and
i can never feel enough in my own skin.
the world feels bigger than ever
and i feel smaller in the four walls of my bedroom,
and i want to do more
see more
feel more
be more
but i don't know how to.

this life tells me i have never known you before,
but your face is already an image i have seen,
your voice is a resounding song in my head,
your speech and your thoughts feel so familiar
as if i have already spent time talking to you
until the wee hours of the morning,
and our thoughts seem to connect and weave into fabric
as warm as the blankets that cover me at night.

it is strange, isn't it?
the way a stranger could feel so familiar?
i do not know why,
but i believe that we have met at some point in the past,
perhaps we already knew each other
when we were living previous lives
we cannot call ours at present.

but whether it is fate or coincidence,
i am glad our paths have crossed again.

on one fine morning i found you sprouting from the ground,
a burst of pastel among wilted leaves and tree stumps,
i could not understand how you came
to grow in such barren lands.

i spent days sitting by you to study you—
the way you'd respond to my touch, to the sun,
i was never used to such beauty in my life.

i fell in love with the flowers on your fingertips,
the petals that fall from your eyelids
when you cry as the sun sets,
the way your hands are gentle and soft
when they rest on the small of my back,
and the lingering fragrance you leave behind
to cast a child of nature's spell on me.

and i promise,
i will do anything to keep you beautiful and alive,
i will water the lands around you
and protect you from the crushing steps of people
and the drought of this world's ways,
just please promise
you will never wilt and fade away.

I look to you
And suddenly flowers grow in strange places—
Between alley ways, on top of jukeboxes, in my heart.
I could never forget the fragrance of your youth,
Seemingly arrogant without ever meaning to,
You spring out of confidence I would not blame you for having.

And you bloom so beautifully,
All the vines grow quickly just to be where you are,
And the sun comes out at dawn just to see you.

have you ever been brought to tears by a single rose?

i was once given a rose
and when it started to wilt
i cut the flower from the stem
and held it in my hand.

its petals were closing,
longing to hide in a bud,
and like a child searching gardens
i opened the bud, piece by piece,
to discover what it hid beneath the bloom.

i spread the petals and it seemed to never end,
the stamen heart hidden deep inside,
and i began to cry -
these petals were soft as silk,
the pink rose could've sang me with a lullaby,

and i could not believe
that in such a chaotic world, a noisy life
i could still afford to hold something so delicate, so soft
in my own calloused hands.

From the suburban trap I could never call home,
I speed through the freeway.
I could not possibly be late
for a little rendezvous with a lover —

My lover being the city
With its promises preserved in concrete.
I see the skyline from afar, lined with towers and smog
And I feel alive the way lovers do with one another.

And before I know it, I'm cruising along avenues
Uniform houses of white turn to skyscrapers,
I feel the subway slither beneath, filled with all kinds of stories,
As my heart beats to the footsteps of pedestrians.

And I stop at the main thoroughfare,
What was once the dull light I've always known
Now shines through an urban prism
And muted hues turn to vibrant, living colors.

And I am here in the glorious city,
I am looking at a mirage of light and sound,
In all its color, I hear it speak to me:
You are alive, you are alive.

sing to me the harmonies
of your resounding truth

teach me how to live with the light
of your heliocentric life

mend my messy human heart with
your strong yet gentle hands

show me how to fight like a god
with your bow of silver

strum me the way you play your golden lyre
on starlit evenings by the sea

let me kneel before you and worship you
in the ruins of your temple

and every morning
when your trot along the clouds on your chariot
to bring the sun across the sky
look down and find me,

and know that i will be waiting.

Your face may lack symmetry
but it was carved by the hands of angels
who loved you so much,
they made sure you were brought to this world
in the most beautiful way possible.

Your song, like the sound of heavenly harps,
rings through my ears night and day,
and I pray to God
and to the angels that made you,
I plead for their guidance,
because as the days pass
I fall deeper and deeper in love
with you.

i could love the world
and all its places
i could kiss the skies
and nature's different faces

i could fall in love with people
and the little things they do
i would give my heart to anyone
and even strangers too

i could love the sounds of life
and the songs of the sea
i sing to the night's silence
and the beats of the city

but i am quite worried
aside from fondness and such,
that perhaps nobody
could love me as much.

i love you in your glory
i love you in your silly pajamas
i love you when you're happy
i love you when you hurt
i love you when you talk about the things you love
i love you when you are angry
i love you when you are lost
i love you in your morning drowsiness
i love you in your evening verve
i love you in your beauty
i love you in your mess
i love you, i love you, i love you.

i've picked up the pace
i've seen the beauty of the world once again
in the faces of strangers
and in the grittiest places
i feel alive,
and i wonder how i could have possibly
stopped seeing life through rose colored glasses.
time and time again i fall in love with the world
when i feel it loving me,
and what a splendid feeling
to be young and alive,
what a wonder it is
to be alive!

i belong to the daybreak
when humans with sleepy eyes
and mousy morning hearts
are brave enough to face
the scarily mundane world once again.

i belong to nature
to the hidden wonders of the world
there's unknown modern hanging gardens of babylon
and the secret sanctuaries
where the teenagers of the megalopolis
go to rest.

i belong to the ocean
in the deepest trenches
no man has seen
where it is quiet and still
and darkness reigns supreme.

i belong to outer space
in the galaxies who are
strangers we'd like to know
there's dark matter that swirls
space dust coalesces
and stars are born to die all over again.

i belong to the rain
when the sky cries and
the typhoons turn to drizzle
the water runs through
empty houses and thrift stores in the gutters
and on and on, to underground,
to God knows where.

i belong to the night
to the time when the busiest people
submit to slumber
but a few who are not
bothered by lightyears
sit by their windowsills
to watch the stars.

*i belong to the world
and the world belongs to me.

i
      DO
not
     WANT
to
     TURN
a
     YEAR
older
     AGAIN
i
     AM
still
      MESSY
and
      I
have
      NO
money.

maybe it's the weather
maybe it's because i'm turning a year older
but whatever it is, there is something
that gobbles me up from inside
and my bones get weaker and
my chest feels heavy and
i want to die

sunday to sunday i crawl to cling on to life
and i scrape my knees on the sidewalk
i think of tiny things that could possibly
change my tainted view of living,
i think about you.

i always hear your whispers,
they are snakes that slither from my ears
and they travel down the same way
your breath would on my neck.

i remember looking out the window
and i could feel your gaze in the shivers down my spine
and i'd tell the stars about my desires,
i'd tell them about you.

sit down and listen to the sounds of the world.

the gun shots and explosions echo through continents
and you hear the pleas of the hurt and murdered.
the night's music fades to white noise and screams in the ears of men who loved men,
the black woman is trapped in the passenger seat after watching her black lover get shot by a cop for a headlight,
a thousand muslims are hurt and killed in the midst of a holy celebration,
young boys and girls no longer laugh but cry in desperation.

people are killing in the name of faith, and color, and love they deem wrong,
the body count gets higher and higher
as the tears cried and the blood shed
form a well the world is drowning in.

the sweet smell of life turns to death and grieving,
and in times like these, we stand for the threatened, we heal the hurt and broken.

with your voice, tell stories of the murdered and their kind that show they're human too.
with your arms, fight for rights and understanding the oppressed deserve.
with your hands, help and guide the ones who are now afraid.
and with your heart, love radically
until love is enough to put the pieces of this world back together.

times like these
i find myself short of words
to express how i feel for the wonder that you are
there's nothing else to say, but in the simplest of terms:

i miss you

he's got slits for eyes,
they wander about, in search for something
to satiate his bustling curiosity.

he's got a thirst for life,
he is attracted to painted alleyways,
he listens keenly to anyone who speaks in the hopes of gathering a story to tell.

he's constantly moving around, speaking in tongues,
his breath smells like summer, his eyelids are heavy ,
his hands are ink stained and he is desperate to create.

and i'm not one to draw or paint; but to me,
there is artistry in the swing of his hands,
there is poetry in his stride, his kindness, in his mousy speech,
there is a story in his sunlit bedroom, his drafts and scribbles,
the type of spectacle worth capturing in a photograph.

his art is merely a reflection
of the beauty contained in his being.

i speed through a new freeway,
i think about the last one we just exited

i walk along provincial sidewalks lined with pine trees,
i miss the pedestrian lanes of a glaring city we left behind

i drink a hot cup of coffee in the morning cold,
i dream of feeling california's sunlight on my skin

i come across new faces and places,
i think only of the people i miss

i am faced with chances to make stories to tell,
i dwell on the moments i wasted instead

you come to places then leave,
that's just how life goes,
however, detachment is something i've never known

Bit by bit the debris of my being will dilapidate
My arms of cement will be tied and pulled to pieces by ropes
My windows shall be crashed and shattered by the indestructible cranes
The walls that contained the stories I kept will be torn down ceaselessly
The pillars that once made me stand tall will crumble to pieces and dust
My tower will fall apart amongst all the people and placed I've come to love
The ground beneath me will give in as I sink into the hollow Earth to disappear.

And as this may appear as a catastrophe, it most certainly is not.
In fact, it is satisfaction -
Satisfaction for the people
Who ordered for the nuisance I was
To be taken down and demolished for their own reasons.

needless to say, you were an anomaly to me
nights and nights i scrutinized the case of your being
you were the stuff of high school dreams, wishes made in lonely desperation
and suddenly here you were, so close i could see you

i had thought i cracked the code and you were no longer a mystery
you had become a book i read a million times over
but no matter how many words you wrote down just for me
i could never comprehend the meaning between the lines of who you were

for days and days i longed to listen to what went on in your mind
but it turns out you had always been the one listening to what went on in mine