nana,

my love for you is immeasurable. i hold you with fierce love, packed into a brief and firm hug. i try to put all those years of pure love you've had for me and this entire family in a quick brush of my lips to your cheek. i hold you as if it was the last. i've never felt more joy than seeing you at the dinner table, smiling when i gave you some of the hot cocoa i made. hot cocoa, i know. it probably meant nothing to you, just another night at the dinner table. but in that moment, i understood.

i made that hot cocoa with love and i understood why you spent all those years on your feet, hunched over a huge *** of tinola. sinigang. mungo. pancit. i understood the love you put into everything you do, paralleling the love you have for this family.

i remember your face lighting up after taking that first sip. you're diabetic, believe me, i know. sugar is a privilege and your diet is strict. seeing you, with your hands wrapped around the mug and your smile lighting up your eyes. i saw youth. i saw happiness. you laughed. and i did too.

i know i haven't been the greatest granddaughter to you, and i'm sure i'll think of 500 ways i've wronged you in the future. but i just want to immortalize my sentiment, even if you'll never read this. i know i've strayed from tradition. i know i've took the opposite fork in the road. i know i'm not who you hoped i would be. but i also know that regardless you're still proud and that you love me. i just want you to know how much i love you too. and how i hope you understand. i love you.

Wow never have I felt so truly alone. You were always kind of my safety net. No matter what I did I knew you would be there for me. That's why I kept you at a distance because our friendship would be preserved in all it's glory if I did so. But I didn't realize that you were drifting away. I didn't realize you would. I just always, depended on you. You were a constant in my life and now that I know that this immaculate friendship I tried so hard to preserve has been dirtied I don't know how to feel. Actually, I do. Disappointed. And guilty. For not saying that I'm sorry until now. Maybe I should have held you closer.

type of girl:
the acrid taste of black coffee
denim and leather
red lips
a will like her father's
and the stubbornness of her mother.

for the first time that night
i screamed
i mourned
i bawled
over the loss of your heart.

no please,
i like it when you speak to me as if i were, god forbid, human.
i didn't ask for this to happen to me
and i didn't ask for people
to waltz around broken glass and eggshells
as if i were the most delicate of them all

i don't need
hushed whispers and words
stuck between oblivion and physical sound waves
because fear of offending me
clutched at your vocal cords

i know what it feels to be missing a part of myself
and what it means to be holding onto something
that isn't promised to me

i know what it means
to be hiding a part of yourself
for the sake of others

and i plead that you
save yourself the trouble
i've had enough self pity

because now i realize
alopecia
holds you back
from being who you are

it's a safety blanket

it's wishing that you had green eyes
when you were born with brown.

it's as simple as that.

at four i wanted to be a princess
at eight i wanted a prince
at nine i wanted a bad boy
at eleven i wanted my first kiss
at twelve i wanted someone to love me
at thirteen i realized no one cared
at fourteen i wanted attention
at fifteen i stopped being there.

so you aren't my ideal boy
but somehow
the thoughts of you
steeped into my mind
like the tea i drink
late at night while talking to you
and somehow your smile
that vaguely resembles a fish
makes me smile at the very thought
you tell me about the girl you like
and although it isn't me
seeing your eyes sparkle
and your voice waver
and the uncertainty of
the way she looks at you
breaks my heart.

crescendos of a racing heart coming in waves through eardrums
tunnel vision
static light waves
breathe.

the kind of girl who craves
falling leaves
and coffee shop loves
with the soft plucks of a guitar
and the vague taste of tobacco
on his tongue

i don't like the dependence
that's grown on me
like ivy on brick.

i don't like that i worry
when you don't text me.

i don't like
that i care.

oh darling,
you must understand
i never meant for it to be like this
never meant for it to be us
locking eyes
and quickly looking away.

oh darling,
you must believe me when i say
you're merely a figment
of my wild imagination
you don't exist
and if you do -
well it's in my mind

but darling,
don't worry
i'll look for you in
the crescent moon eyes
of a real boy
to call my own.

i'm glad that you love him
and i'm glad that you were there.
i'm sorry that you lost him,
and he's no longer here,

but his memory still remains,
because you are here
to remember and maybe to forget.

you have a beautiful brain
with lovely worlds
and lovely thoughts
and never underestimate that.

remember when we weren't?

remember when you drew me pictures
under the oak tree in the school yard?

remember when we kicked our feet so high
in hopes of beating each other in swinging contests?

remember when you gave me blossoms
from the boughs of your family's magnolia tree?

remember when our brothers were best friends
and we were partners in crime?

remember when you sat in the peanut-free table
and i followed because we would be together forever?

well i remember the day you told me you were moving
and forever barely lasted a month.

honey
how does it feel
to be sipping on that
cold brew
of coffee in the morning
and a cold steep
of tea at night
to parallel
the numb
and the cold
that radiates
through your bones
and spreads to your
spindly fingertips
hoping for reprieve

Um
Anxiety. Pain. Fear.
Crippling me
A cocktail of narcotics
Succumbing me
Into blatant
Paralysis.
How can you feel
So much
Yet care
So little?

how wonderfully terrifying it is
that just in my lifetime alone
i've seen thousands of faces
and out of those thousand faces
i still remember yours

but darling, your divine image
is slowly starting to fade
and with each day,
your face blurs.

the creases in your eyes
smooth out.
the lone dimple
that cratered your cheek
is forgotten.

and slowly,
one
by
one

those wonderful green eyes i once adored
become the green eyes that now belong to the cashier at the grocery
and your sandy hair that i once tousled
becomes the sandy hair of a new love

and just like that your once immaculate image
becomes another face in the crowd.

happiness is being able to
look yourself in the bathroom mirror
at 2 o'clock in the morning
and feeling genuinely happy
with the reflection looking back at you

it's not the fetal position
when your world is hushed
and your thoughts roaring

it's not the claustrophobia clawing
in your chest and your mangled sheets

it's not dancing around
and laughing with your friends
deluding yourself from the truth

there's no such thing as fake it
until you make it,

i'm afraid
my name means
absolutely nothing to you.

this boy,
he saw her pastel heart
in the petals of the peonies.

he saw their love
in the blossoming
buds of a magnolia tree.

he was reminded
of her floral scent
in his mom's gardenia patches.

he saw her untamed hair
in the wildflower patches
on the walks home from school.

but darling,
he was just painting flowers
for a girl who
would never love him

and that's okay,
because flowers wither
and so did his love.

i don’t think you understand what it’s like to feel like you’re lower than the grave six feet under that you wish you were in. i don’t think you understand what it feels like to wish that you carried the burden of a thousand people because they don’t deserve it, but you do. i don’t think you understand that everyday you wish you weren’t alive but yet you still live for the ones you love, because let’s be honest, if you were living for yourself, you would have been dead years ago. but hey, maybe you do understand. because this is adolescent angst and maybe, just maybe, you’ll live through it and see that it does get better.

hey,
remember when i stayed up all night
thinking about all the possibilities
of you and me?

well now i knock out before the clock strikes 12
because i'm done chasing after you,
i've given up.

and there's a certain kind
of emptiness that comes with it
that only the bliss of unconsciousness
can numb.

when i was little
i promised to myself
that i'd never be like my brothers.

i promised to myself that i would never
tire of our road trips together
and the hours we had just talking in the car.

but once i hit my teen years,
i understand.
it's been harder to talk to you guys you know.

and as much i want to be your little girl again,
i'm not sure if you want me back.

i wonder
if others
look at me
with jealousy
or pity

i was hoping that
the next time I woke
i would be graced
with the presence of your body next to mine.

to be shielded
from the harsh clutches
of loneliness and desperation
that only you can counteract.

oh dear what a mess we've made of ourselves
eclipsed minds skirting around each other
hoping to never cross paths
our darkest sides never to be revealed
i never meant for it to be like this you know,
you must believe it
crescent moon eyes smiling
to mask our strangled yearns
nebulae of thoughts from galaxies
with supernovas too strong
and black holes that consume us
both of us walking vacuums
void of emotion, void of contact
our planets revolving in different ellipses
and our constellations,
merely stars that will never connect
the universe expands
and how tragic it is that we just grow
farther and farther apart.

perfection is unattainable
and darling this is why
i'm unable
to utter the words
i love you
because of the lighting
or because of the aura
not being quite right

or maybe it’s the fact
that i know deep down
in my heart
that you’re not quite right for me.

i don't like the blatant disregard
you have for other people's time
or how you seem to think
the world caters to you
you think you're always right
and the world is a bad place

i don't like
that i learned to be someone
by becoming the opposite of who you are.

you're my father
and i'm your daughter

but i'm not you.

a mother's love
is not sacrifice
because somehow
in those 9 months
ever sinew of your being
is theirs
and those branches
reach for the same
sky.

thinking of you
brings a sort of
sickness in my stomach
but do not fret,
i like you
maybe it's just that
i'm disgusted with myself

she tells herself it's much better
that these wine stained lips
are better that blood stained floors
and that these lapses in consciousness
are better than collapses on floors.

you know something?
i've typed your name
on my instagram search feed
a few times
and i think that's probably
the closest thing
i'll ever get to
writing your name
over and over in my marble notebook.

... it's nice to know that you're doing just fine without me.

you know i kinda
just feel empty.

yeah,
like. empty.

i don't know what it is
because i've had everything
that i wanted

but now i know why they say
that everything isn't always
what it's cracked up to be.

... and i'm trying to learn
how to deal with that.

that's you
"a lustrous rainbow-like
play of color"
an oil slick
a soap bubble
a precious stone
different lights
differential refractions
light waves
dark fringes
brings a new hue out of you.
i guess freshman physics
taught me a lot.

i tried so hard
but you hid the key
in the deepest crevices
only to be used as the last resort.

i tried so hard
to find meaning
in the words you say
envious of the way words
flowed out of your pen

i tried so hard
to put words to how i felt
little did i know
there was nothing to describe
all that was left was
the match on the ground
and the image of your back.

you used to confide in me,
trusted me with the voice inside your head

but i gave you away and kept
your dreams of being a filmmaker
and the songs you used to strum on your guitar

i have the tendrils of your voice
reminding me of what we once were
and it hurts

tell me, please,
what am i supposed to do
with the stained glass memories
that still filter through my thoughts sometimes?

how do you deal
with someone who trusted
you with everything
but now
all you have
are
gilded memories
replayed one too many times?

meandering through the crevices of your mind sounds delightful.

i want to experience you in the purest of forms.
i want to be blessed with your kiss just before the sun creeps through your blinds
to grace your hallowed cheeks.
i want to paint a picture with an abundance of life
that parallels with the warm blood coursing through your veins.
i want to graze my fingers across your lips
before a single word of self loathing escapes.

i want to engulf you in love
before the hate you have for yourself destroys you.

but really
maybe it's better
no one ever gets close

i regret to inform you
that i am very aware of
my existence

All good things have to come to an end right?
This is what I can’t understand.
This phrase literally just dooms your whole life.
You’re having a good life right?

Wrong.

All good things have to come to an end.
Life is going to ***** you over in the end.

I can’t help but think that when I’m having an especially great week, it’s going to end. The better it is, the harder I’ll fall. The harder it will be to get back up and go back. This is why I ******* hate life. I can’t seem to comprehend the fact that life is always going to ***** you over and continually make you wish that you didn’t have emotions. Emotions run your life and I hate that. I hate depending on things. I hate depending on people because in the end they’re going to ***** you over. It’s human nature, or maybe a higher being’s, I don’t ******* know. My life seems so meaningless right now and all I want to know is that I’ve made a difference because right now I feel as unwanted as the dog **** that you end up stepping in on the sidewalk.

one
two
three
 
three red cars on the street
one
two
three
three kisses
for her dear papa
one
two
three
three red cars on the street

one
two
three
four
four kisses
for her dear papa
three for the red cars
and one stolen
 
because *******,
she was a papa’s girl
wasn’t she?

you know what's sad?
you were my first love
before i even knew what love was
i remember you putting pictures in my cubby
and flowers from your mom's garden
i remember you puffing your chest
and asking my dad if you could take me out for ice cream
i remember you offering to push me on the swings
and trying to steal a kiss when i wasn't looking
i remember you leaving me behind
and me promising that i'd write you
but somewhere between the lines
i lied and you followed along

i'm sorry i didn't reciprocate and i guess i'm paying for it
for all of those times i've seen you in places
that you're really not.

root yourself further
into this earth
with each heaving breath

pump your blood
into these rivers
with each beat of your heart

make it yours.
don't worry,
you're not dead yet.

Maybe the stars are sad too
singing bright
with their tears.
paralyzed with sadness and
unable to move

maybe they’re sad
seeing each others’ beauty
but never their own
sad because they’ll never touch
sad because they’re stuck
in a cold, dark vacuum
that we call space.

maybe we’re all just stars.

******* it all
i want to be kissed
and have someone
who cares about me

because it's hardly midnight
and it's hardly
a late night convo

when the only person
that you have to talk to
is yourself.

you know,
i'm really tired
of being the girl
that hates herself
and i'm really trying
to change that, i swear.

"my god"
how conceited
how vain
how naive
of you to believe
that you're the only one
who feels pain
come back to earth
isn't the lack of oxygen
getting to that head of yours?

i am a culmination
of sad eyes
goodbyes
and self hatred
rooted since
youth

what do you do
when loneliness makes a home
in your very bones
and your skin crawls
with emptiness?

your heart thumps
to the discord
of piano keys
and the ache
tingles and pumps
ice through
your human veins?

a phantom grip
around my vocal chords
and a fear
crawling from my stomach
too scared to break
the sanctity of silence
all for the opinion
of a silly little girl

let me tell you about my father
who loved me
and my two brothers
at an arms length

on one end he held the world
for us and the other
held a rope that led
to the noose around his neck

he told us
he'd **** himself
before he'd let anything happen to us

and when they found
my eldest brother comatose and
sprawled across the linoleum tiles
at a ******* college party

day seven came and
he prayed to the devil
because apparently
god wasn't listening

well,
my brother's alive and well now
and every night
i pray for my father's soul.