Finals are such a bitch
I don't wanna leave college
Hanging on by a thread
Pardon the pun
Excuse the language
But I am nervous
Don't wanna leave
This wonderful place
Where my heart found peace
For the past three and a half years
Visitors had flown back home...
The much-longed for respite
Finally, was at hand.
It felt good...to be on your own...
Leaning on the bed, alone, though
Still nursing a cold from two weeks past.
To catch up with sleep
Was all that mattered.
Quietude was a blessing.
There was no noise at all
At 5:00 in the morning.
What? 5:00 AM?
No rushing footsteps? No showering?
No flushing of the toilet?
On a school day?
This can't be!
Rising from the bed was a struggle,
Everything seemed light...floating,
Panic lurked in all corners of my room,
Loomed, it did, and spread all around,
In the midst of a widening cloak of fear.
The vacuum...in the right ear...
Cleared those fuzzy thoughts.
My right ear could no longer hear.
Whether lying cringed or curled,
Prostrate, or supine,
Predominated in the days that followed.
Diagnoses and prognoses, all were bleak.
The cruel, deadly virus did it all...
The loss superceded, and
Displaced every strand of confidence...
A downward pull was imminent.
No phone calls were accepted.
Unexpectedly, true colors surfaced,
Real friends came forward...
Family, other voices kept whispering:
"Shibashi waits, tai chi helps,
Both can alleviate, heal the heart,
Heal the mind, to be able
To accept the unacceptable."
Fourteen days seemed a year already,
Moments spent in soul-searching...
With prayers and courage, gathered within,
I dared cross that busy street,
Though shaking, quivering from fear
And from the cold winds of February...
Almost got hit by a car,
Cursed by its driver,
But reached the church grounds in one piece.
Practice started at 7:00 AM, sharp.
Movements were calming,
Concentration was perfect!
It was a sunny day...
Wind blew softly,
But small things began to fall,
Tiny strips that went with the wind...
What I thought were garbage...
Strips of thrash paper, from a shredder, maybe...
Thrown from a house I passed by...
Blown even further, higher, by the wind.
I walked back home,
With strips of paper on my head.
Two weeks were too short, I was still confused,
Unaccepting, mad, sad, felt cheated,
Still in denial, of what had occured...
Standing in front of a vanity mirror,
Wondering what God's message was.
Strangely, I thought of those strips of thrash paper...
Confetti from Heaven???
My situation wasn't a festive event!
Could I have overlooked something here?
I wasn't sure...but what I knew was,
I was depressed...
I lost equanimity, I lost my serenity...
I was distraught, I was everything but happy.
But, those strips of paper...
Falling on my head like a shower...
Made me look up to the sky that morning....
There were no tears, still am afraid, but
There is a calmer me...
There is solace in the fact that,
God gave me two ears...
I could still hear with the other...
I live a quite active life, til now...
I still move briskly...
I sit where the speaker's voice is most clear
To my left ear.
When something is difficult to hear, or understand,
I still get so frustrated..
Sometimes, I forget about it,
It has its good effects.
It would soon be seven years after...
I have learned to
adjust to my limitations,
And still wanting to know how to overcome
Or resolve these limitations...
One day, I might just...
One day, I might just,
Accept what should be accepted...
There'd be much gratitude for my sole request:
To be understood...and not pitied...
Written early morning of December 11, 2013
(From journals of February 2007)
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
1. Put a sad song on repeat. Some people will tell you to play a favorite, but you should always use a sad song. One so painful that it breaks your heart in pieces with every itinerant chord change. One whose words slide sharper than the six fresh blades stashed under your dirty socks across flushed and anxious skin. One you only remember on nights like this. You want a song that sneaks on trembling legs, unstretched and untested, into your thoughts to leave muddy footprints on everything it can reach. Let the bass line become a heartbeat; inhale to it. Exhale to the kick drums, and moan to the guitars. These are the nights you won’t remember, the songs you won’t remember; but when you do, you’ll know.
2. Snap a rubber band against your skin. Leave welts, because that’s really all you want. Watch the inflammation evolve and fade. The rosy lines of discontent will eventually dissolve back into their pale, ivory stasis, and you will be no worse for the wear. Keep one on your wrist day and night, like a shackle—a rubber band that is. You will depend on it one day, wound up in its elastic tension, a knot stretched to breaking, and you will snap. Snapsnapsnap. And you will revel in the marks you leave as they fade from your memory.
3. Go for a walk or a jog. Run. Feel the cool of the breeze as it dries the sweat to a tacky layer of salt on your forehead. Feel the stitch form swiftly in your side and imagine a knife. It slips between the bones of your ribcage. It twists, knicking calcium splinters into your chest cavity. Keep running and never stop. As your knees cry out and crumple to the sidewalk, your breath will come in short gasps of agony, and you will feel everything and nothing at once.
4. Scream into a pillow. Let your lungs bleed venom and misery into tear-stained feathers and compression-resistant fiberfill. All the secrets you’ve whispered through the years will whisper back and muffle your anguish. Breathe. Soak in the regurgitated carbon dioxide and know it is yours. Feel it burn as feather fronds slip through thin cotton mesh and into your nasal cavities. Catch your breath deep in your chest and scream again. You’ll lose your voice one of these days.
5. Spend hours absorbed in art—draw, paint. Scratch endless lines into paper with the implement of your choice. Crosshatch ink into pliant wooden fibers until it bleeds through to the other side or even the next page. Splash an image of the object of your frustrations on a wall-sized canvas. Spend hours inking over those delicate fibers and indelicate features with dusty charcoal and night-black Krylon. Paint yourself until your smile no longer cracks, but flexes with the heat of your skin. They will love you now, an ever-grinning Mona Lisa.
6. Call a friend on the telephone and make uncomfortable small-talk. Ask them how their day was, even though you saw them twice. When they sigh it was fine and ask how you are, reply with the same lie as always. Oh, I’m alright; a little tired, but okay. Eventually, you might even believe it when the words tumble instinctively from your lips, and then you’ll be fine too.
7. Draw a butterfly on your wrist and name it for someone who would be sad if you relapsed. Color your butterfly; make it your friend. Remember that it’s temporary, that it will eventually wash off in the sink or shower, but while it’s visible you cannot kill it. To slice off its wings would be murder; to scorch cigarette marks into its thorax, cruel. You wouldn’t hurt an innocent butterfly, would you? Someday you’ll name that butterfly after yourself, and then you will be free.
8. Slip an ice cube into the crook of your elbow. Let it melt; from the sharp sting of frost to the slow itch of evaporating wet. Watch it disintegrate and know you are warm. You radiate, even if it is only enough to coax water from an ice cube. But you are warm and alive, and that is enough. Let that knowledge numb you. Remember when you were small and hurt your ankle falling down the stairs. When your mother found a decades-old bag of peas in the basement freezer for you to wear, thinking it would numb the ache of a tiny sprain. The bag dripped into your socks and squished in your shoes, but the cold made it feel new again (eventually). Watch the ice and feel the cold as the liquid slides down your sleeve. You will melt it and it will melt you.
Maybe I wasn't leaving, but going home. Maybe my body was constantly the wrong age for my mind and I slipping in and out of consciousness. And to be entirely honest with you, I never knew what love was until it smacked me right across the face, knocking me to the ground. I mean there's no other logical way to explain it. It's as though I was there and then suddenly I wasn't only there but I was in love. It consumed me and it devoured me. It ripped my flesh to shreds and dragged me on the surface of the hardwood floors. I blame love for the loss of my temper, the times I showed up at your door sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't hold my words between my teeth, yet neither could I release them. They were stuck. Planted there. Between my chest cavity and my throat and occasionally a thought of desperation stepped off the tip of my tongue. I threw things. And I hated things. But most importantly, I loved you. I loved you despite the fact that you didn't love me. I didn't even care or expect you to return this feeling. I just wanted you to know. To be aware that I would have done anything to see that trace of a smile across your lips. I would have slept out in the rain. Worked 3 jobs and even tell off the girl who once broke your heart. I lost it. My mind. My innocence. My doubts. And my expectations. I gave every ounce of it away because of what I felt for you. And I guess where I'm coming to, is one day I woke up and it wasn't pouring outside anymore. I was okay. I had made it through the storm. I found home.
Maybe I wasn't leaving, but going home. Maybe my body was constantly the wrong age for my mind and I slipping in and out of consciousness. And to be entirely honest with you, I never knew what love was until it smacked me right across the face, knocking me to the ground. I mean there's no other logical way to explain. It's as though I was there and then suddenly I wasn't only there but I was in love. It consumed me and it devoured me. It ripped my flesh to shreds and dragged me on the surface of the hardwood floors. I blame love for the loss of my temper, the times I showed up at your door sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't hold my words between my teeth, yet neither could I release them. They were stuck. Planted there. Between my chest cavity and my throat and occasionally a thought of desperation stepped off the tip of my tongue. I threw things. And I hated things. But most importantly, I loved you. I loved you despite the fact that you didn't love me. I didn't even care or expect you to return this feeling. I just wanted you to know. To be aware that I would have done anything to see that trace of a smile across your lips. I would have slept out in the rain. Worked 3 jobs and even tell off the girl who once broke your heart. I lost it. My mind. My innocence. My doubts. And my expectations. I gave every ounce of it away because of what I felt for you. And I guess where I'm coming to, is one day I woke up and it wasn't pouring outside anymore. I was okay. I had made it through the storm. I found home.
Tired of wearing your heart on your sleeve?
Then go sleeveless.
I took my whole shirt off,
But still can't iron out the creases
People fall like leaves,
Engaging in various releases
Some get carried away
Leaving behind important pieces.
That being said
Gonna meditate and lay in bed.
replenish my energy
With a divine lucid fantasy,
Not only through rhyme
...but in my eyes...
you can see what meant so much to me
* shuts down *
How can you love someone
So far away
How can you say yes to a date
When you just broke a heart
And hurt your own
How can you ever be with someone
How can you ever be in love
With the person next to you
When your feelings change all the time
And it hurts
In the winter i set my heart down,
making note of it in this poem.
It was heavy with ice and frost,
and i was lighter for its loss.
i wanted to pass the note along,
missing you so, to cry out to you:
PLEASE! I LOVE YOU!!
...but you don't hear me though...
In the approaching spring you called,
and the hollow in my ribs ached;
we spoke different languages through
string-less tin can phones;
i sought out the place where my heart lies,
though i fear it cannot be found:
i had mailed you that treasure map,
and you lost it in translation.
Since we parted Ive been a mess..
No one else can see it except myself..
They all hate you...
For some reason i don't mind you...
I had tried everything to forget you
I eventually just gave up
Its like you put yourself there purposely for me to never forget..
I don't know why things happened this way
We never had bad problems till that last day..
The last day we were together you broke everything..
My trust in you, hope for us, happiness for us, and my heart..
If you cared in the first place you wouldn't have done that..
Yet you still try to talk as if none of it ever happened..
I don't know how you can do that..
You stopped all the drugs you were doing back in those days..
Sometimes i think of how happy we used to be...
I wish we still had that little sparkle in our eyes
The look of excitement every time we would see each other ..
I will be seeing you shortly for the first time in about 5 months..
We will see where that leads..
Everyone's telling me don't meet up with you
Truth is...i want to be in your arms again...
I would feel no fear with you
You are trying to prove yourself to me
I am willing to accept you back in my life again
There is no love stronger than our forbidden love...
a mockery of my heart.
And my head now a fog,
from the rose colored glasses
that you placed on my face
glued to my sight
I know no truth
and I beg,
beg to know why.
Why did you even bother
my foolish misguided heart.
You're better than that.
A soulmate is rare
you are blind
to red devilish pain
that will engulf your heart.
You are now
one whom I couldn't wish I never met.
For you destroyed me
with your apathy,
lack of thought.
I cry I hurt,
I scream your name.
nothing but a silent ear;
You're better than that.
When you are broken
and on the ground,
screaming for the truth;
I will meet you there.