this is how i love you;
darling, i would defy all of it
i will contain the universe inside me
so it might stop expanding towards oblivion,
so time could stop putting oceans between us
as i foolishly believe that there is something
much more at play here, more powerful than fate,
more contagious than magic or the universe's energy,
more concrete than science, more transcending than art,
something more than love---more than a feeling that can
be contained by the beating oddity caged by our fragile
frame all tender flesh, sweat, and sinew, laid to rot
once time comes full circle. because i foolishly believe
that even after death, whatever this is will continue to
bloom through the cracks of the earth, haunt other empty
hearts until it finds a love reciprocated so fervently
that it will forget residing in loneliness here in my own heart.
this is how i will love you; constantly even if it is only from
the safest distance i could manage. i will love you in all
languages my heart is fluent in; in sudden epiphanies, in bad
metaphors, in incoherent murmurs of joy, in silent tears, in i love
you's tucked in nightly prayers. even if your heart isn't capable
of comprehending the way i love and even if it never reciprocates.
-w.
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 2:57 PM UTC
Isa,dalawa,tatlo.Binibilang ni Renren ang bawat segundong lumilipas habang siya ay tumatakbo.Kung papaanong binibilang niya ang oras noong kabataan nila habang naglalaro ng taya-tayaan.Ngunit iba na ngayon.Hindi na mga maiingay na paslit ang humahabol sa kaniya.Bagkus,hinahabol siya ng mga nagsisigawang naka-itim.Nakaitim sila ngayon ngunit alam niyang sila ay talagang dapat naka-asul.Ngayong gabi,sila ay nakaitim at walang mga plakang ginto o pilak ang nagniningning sa kanilang mga dibdib.
Isa,dalawa,tatlo.Sunod-sunod silang nagsusulputan mula sa likod ni Renren.Nariyan na sila.Pagod na siya.Kapos na siya sa hininga at manhid na ang kaniyang mga paa.Ngunit hindi siya maaring tumigil dahil paparating na ang mga anino ng baluktot na hustisya.Alam ni Renren na wala siyang ibang magagawa kung hindi tumakbo.
Isa,dalawa,tatlo.Ilang iskinita na ba ang sinuot ni Renren upang magtago?Pilit niyang sinisiksik ang sarili sa bawat sulok upang matakasan ang kapahamakang dulot ng mga aninong dapat naka-asul,mga aninong dapat sa kaniya ay naniniwala’t nagtatanggol at hindi humahabol nang hindi nagtatanong o nakikinig.Nagtatago siya dahil alam niyang wala siyang iba pang mapaparoonan o mahihingian ng saklolo.Tulog ang batas ngayong gabi,wala siyang mapupuntahan.Kaya’t heto si Renren,hindi mapakali sa sulok at basa ng malamig na pawis.Nanginginig ang kaniyang laman sa takot at awa sa sarili.Sana bata na lamang siya uli at ito ay isang normal na laro lamang ng tagu-taguan ngunit hindi.Nagulantang siya nang may isang malakas na sipa ang sumira sa pinto ng kaniyang pinatataguan.Nanigas siya sa kaniyang puwesto.Ayaw pa niyang mataya.
Isa,dalawa,tatlo.Ilang mura ang binitawan ng isa sa mga anino.Ngayon ay papalapit na sila kay Renren.Agad nilang hinila ang mga braso nito sabay sabunot sa ulo ng lalaki upang patingalain at ipamalas ang panggagalaiti’t pakiramdam ng kapangyarihang mababakas sa kanilang mga mukha dahil ngayon sila ang mga hari,sila ang batas.Bagama’t napapalibutan,nagpupumiglas pa rin si Renren.Sana larong bata na lamang ito.Sana pwede siyang magsabing,“Saglit!Taympers.Pagod na ako.“Ngunit hindi maari dahil iba na ang laro na ito.Ang larong ito ay walang ibang pinapanigan o pinapakinggan kung hindi ang mga nakauniporme’t ang matandang lalaki sa upuan.Umiiyak na si Renren.Ayaw pa niyang mataya."Wag po!Wag po!Hindi po ako.Sir,maawa po kayo.Inosente po ako—”
Isa,dalawa,tatlo.Tatlong magkakasunod na putok ng baril ang umalingawngaw sa parte ng lungsod na iyon.Taya na si Renren.At sa mga huling segundo ng kaniyang buhay inisip niya na sana tulad nung bata siya,kapag pagod o nasasaktan sa siya sa paglalaro ay iuuwi siya sa kanilang bahay,siya ay tutulungan.Subalit sa larong ito,palaging ang mga tulad ni Renren ang talo.
Sa pagsapit ng umaga,uuwi ang mga anino at magsusuot muli ng asul,hahalik sa kanilang mga naglalarong batang anak o kapatid,nangangakong ipagtatanggol nila ang mga inosenteng inaalipusta’t inuusig—isang pangakong hindi natutupad. At walang Renren na uuwi sa tahanan nila,bagkus ay may bagong malamig na bangkay ang ipapakita sa telebisyon,tatanungin ang matanda sa upuan kung bakit ganoon ang sinapit ni Renren.Ngunit wala siyang ibibigay na tama at maayos na sagot dahil sa larong ito,siya ang Diyos,ang mga aninong dapat naka-asul ang instrumento,ang bansa ang palaruan at mga buhay nila Renren ang isinusugal.
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 2:45 PM UTC
Alam ko,ikaw sa kaniya ay unos, sinimulan ng mga munting patak na nagsalba mula sa pagkauhaw ng puso,niluklok ang kaluluwa sa sukdulan, panandalian **** nilunod ang mga pighati’t galit sa dibdib ay umaapaw. Ngunit ako,ako ang katapusang gugunaw ng mundo–mundong puro pait ang pinadadampi sa pusong nagpapakatatag anumang paggiba sa bintana’t pinto nito ang gawin ni realidad . Ako ang susunog sa bawat ala-alang nilason : mga litrato’t tula na iyong kuha’t akda. Ako ang tatapos at ito ang aking simula.
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 2:44 PM UTC
Grey ashes stain the skin of my thighs. I mutter a curse word at Caleb’s direction before dusting it off. He takes another long drag. It reeks of menthol and dead leaves. I ******* hate cigarettes. And most people I knew who smoked were as toxic and temporary as the object of their vice. It seemed everyone I love fancied smoking their lungs out and I had always been treated like another stick burning too close to the filter. Over time I had mastered the art of secretly holding my breath whenever they were all trying to burn their anguish. Now I feel like I’d asphyxiate to death if I try to avoid breathing in his exhaust. Sixteen year old me would have already pushed him to his demise just for the mere act of lighting a cigarette in front of me but three years had passed, and though it might not have happened in a rather drastic way as we retained our nihilism and self-righteousness, we had changed. I have my tamed my repulsion towards what I like to deem as a foible of a majority of people, and he went from being a quiet, well-behaved, clean-cut charmer to this womanizing edgelord ****** We were sitting on the same ledge we often sat on as high schoolers, contemplating whether jumping off would guarantee our death more compared to downing a dozen pads of Panadol but quickly realizing we didn’t want to die in this economy, with this **** administration slowly extinguishing half of our population as how those corrupt fascist rulers from that book he liked basically created the plague that caused mass genocide in third world countries. These days, we rarely talk about dying or fighting the oppressive beliefs we’ve been taught to perpetuate since birth. I find myself mentally counting all the times I’ve said to my father that I loved him as Caleb drones on about the girl I saw leaving his apartment this morning when I came to return a book I borrowed. This punk claims she was cute but kept on contradicting herself, says he met her when he reluctantly went with his guy friend to their church.
“ She kept on preaching me about hell and mortal sins just last week but I figure that after last night the big guy upstairs wouldn’t be too sure about her salvation either,noh?”I rolled my eyes at him. I miss nice, good-mannered, geeky and gentlemanly Caleb. The emotional barricades and sarcastic comebacks had always been part of his package but he’s always been wary about hurting people unintentionally whether it was direct or passive. I don’t know how someone who still orders the same fruit drink whenever he eats out, who still likes the same bands, who still reads the same genre of manga and weird Russian novels, who still watches the same crime shows and anime could have changed in a way I can’t fully grasp. I comfort myself with the thought that he is just a boy after all, a boy with a tendency to be a ****** ******* “ Cut the bull, Caleb, I know you could care less about the religious ramblings of the poor ***** You got what you wanted, didn’t you? She got you off so let her have the same benefit through preaching . For someone who ****** around, you’re **** at people who are doing your libido a favor.”
It’s a weak argument. With a face like his, he doesn’t even need to ask anyone to be with him. Girls have always been flocking to him. Weird thing is that women seem to like this downgraded version of him more. Ugh. When you’re as pretty and as interesting as him, life can be **** at times but at least you can pretend to be a lead in an indie coming-of-age movie as The Smiths play in the background.
“Wow. I never took you for a defender of their faith. Are you a believer too? Chill. You know that I was just kidding.”
“I’m just saying, even if we don’t share the same beliefs as them or if we have none, that’s no reason to say mean things about them.”
“ I didn’t mean it like that naman, eh. Lighten up. You know I am a good old Catholic boy, why, I even got my forehead drawn on during Ash Wednesday.”
“ Yeah, right and I’ve been singing in choir for a decade and collecting alms from the pews. You are a disgrace to your Church.”, I scoffed in reply. He just laughs and gets up to throw his cigarette **** in the silver trash bin he always had in his car. After lifting himself up, he motions for me to join him on the roof. I stand up from the rock I was sitting on and follow him.
“ I think we’re going to hell”, he jokes as he took my left foot to remove my sneaker. He snatches the other pair from my hands and crouches down to reach inside the driver’s seat where he puts both of our shoes.
“ Isn’t it unfair how we could be thrown into the pits of a burning void when there’s not even someone up there to judge us?”
“ Maybe there is but we’re just ******** who’d rather rely on the theories of our favorite philosophers for meaning because it’s terrifying to accept the futility of our existence as it was given to us by the big Guy upstairs.”
“ That’s just you. I don’t know if I believe in Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, nor God Himself. It’s all just bleh.”
“ Well, if you don’t believe in science or nihilism or God, then there must be something you believe in.”
I almost laughed —not at him, but how pathetic my answer would be. I almost told him that the last thing I believed in threw me away like trash and shattered what little love I had left for myself. I almost answered him, half-crying, half-laughing that even if I didn’t have any of it to keep me on my feet, I used to believe that love could somehow hold all of us together; that a dysfunctional family is still a family as long as a parent loves their child enough, that even a bully can be a friend if you keep forgiving and trying for their sake, that it’s okay to tread through eggshells and landmines as long as the person who’s led you there is holding your hand. And I thought I stopped believing in fairy tales at nine years old. I knew I wouldn’t be able to crawl out of this rabbit hole for months to end if I let myself slip again this time with my emotions. So I keep my pathetic thoughts to myself and avoid his gaze.
It’s late and I’m pretty sure back in the city, the person I used to believe in, the person who made the thought of smoking more unbearable to I, the person who’s the reason why I’m on this ledge again is probably either sleeping or talking to another girl. A pretty China doll with delicate features, a shy demeanor, and an eloquence for the things he likes. Maybe he’s kissing her and for the first time, he wouldn’t taste like the last girl he loved. Maybe he’s fumbling for her zipper while I’m here trying to grasp how cold and unbearable was the truth he gave me about my worth as a person. Maybe he’s stalking that girl he always had a crush on since high school. Maybe tonight he’d die. Suddenly. Horribly. Maybe he’d disappear and everything would disappear with him. Maybe I would try smoking too just to spite him or I could stop pricking my throat with my index finger every time I feel I’ve consumed an amount intended for a human when I know I have to be a porcelain toy. Maybe I could stop measuring my wrists because like my thighs, like my stomach, like my heart, it takes too ******* long for them to finally shrink into the size that’s most convenient for everyone to love. I should probably stop cutting too— even if it is only in places they cannot see— no one likes a scarred ****** up excuse of a girl after all. Maybe I could stop thinking that there is something horribly wrong with myself and I could pray for forgiveness for it to a being I don’t fully believe in. If I could just try, if I could try harder, if I could try to force my worn out spirit to try again, a lot of these possibilities might be achieved instead of just being another list in my head. I tell myself that maybe tomorrow, when I’m not twenty feet above ground and when dying isn’t the only thing on my mind, I could try but for now I’ll do my best not to jump.
The night sky is so stretched out and I’ve never seen it as bright as it is tonight, because I’ve stopped looking at it for a long time and I’ve forgotten how all- consuming the feeling of so is, I finally concede and cry. I think about God and the universe and all those dead men that tried to explain the void that’s been within all of us ever since we were born. How Kierkegaard died slumped at an alley, probably drunk out of his mind. How Cobain refused to go on. Maybe I don’t entirely believe in the existence of Almighty beings and maybe I also refuse to accept that life is pointless but at the very least, I want to believe that this reality is never still meaning that even if I quit my existence, the world will go on without me. In that context, none of us truly matter all on our own in this world. It helps to know that we’re all part of something so much bigger than our feeble emotions, that the Universe is one big organism that contains us yet at the same time is inside us, that we are nothing but systems that modulate and emulate themselves for themselves. It’s comforting to be small and insignificant as a speck of dust in this world as it suggests this pain that’s been tearing at your soul for what seemed like centuries now is a force that can’t survive in the slow descent of mankind into oblivion. It is a mere pulse in the system. It is fleeting and will one day no longer hold this power over you. Or so I believe.
It dawns unto me I still haven’t answered his question but I figured he already took my silence for an indefinite answer as he turned his gaze to look ahead instead of at me. I do the same and soldier on.
-W.
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 2:43 PM UTC
delicate little flower,
i don't know how to speak the language of the perfect– i can only try not to let violence seep off of my anger
as how these words stain the pages,
so there's no other way to tell you this
i've been told you cannot claim what you cannot touch,
so do know this love will never meet your grasp
for
i will break your wrists,
those outstretched hands of yours, little bird, i will tear them from your limbs
i will pour gasoline in your rosebud mouth and light a match against your soft,naked cheek
after the flames,there would be nothing left to fear in the ruins
chained in strings of unsaid words that have strangled me in my sleep a hundred days ago,
you will subsist on crumbs and leftovers of my love, as how i had waited on the scraps of your heart long before
i will make you bleed until you strain your lungs screaming,pleading to be spared
but my dear,
your tears cannot move me, that anguish will rain,feeding the earth as
your agony fuels my desire to feel
all of hell will never compare to the fiery pits of rage where i shall leave you to rot,tangled with the remains of the boy whose love you had
love will save you after all,will it not?
the heavens might pity you, attempt to end your suffering before i slit open that pretty little throat, so be rest assured that your corpse will meet my blade soon enough
and your measly flesh will weigh the same way i did while you had me beneath you–when i carried so much of you yet still felt less inside–
i will bury you beneath my sanctuary where i'll live out my days,
where i do not have to starve to be beautiful like you,
where i do not have to be used and destroyed to be loved like you,
where i do not have to be someone who can't be you
and there
i will not wait for anyone to bring me flowers that i know have graced your heart first,
i will grow a garden above your grave as the worms have their way with you down in the dirt where you belong ,
and you can take my heart with you
–W.
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 1:45 PM UTC
burning hues of red,
of bright indigo and yellow,
crashed into the grey horizon
(I am told
my eyes should rest soon),
do not stay as witness
when the depths come
in furious waves of regrets
to drown the ache that
refuses pleas to be heard
by his eyes
denies truth to be seen,as
it falls on deaf ears
again I hold my breath,
I'll sink further into the pit
of madness crafted by
my own mind
through your words,
you will ignore their
silence that comes
piercing through,
a thousand decibels
to remind you
I wanted to shatter
your sadness
–sadness that consumes wood nymphs and faeries,
sadness that lures sirens to their death,
sadness that makes the man in the moon sleepless,
sadness that makes love to death
I wanted to exile your demons in the vast sea of hope
yet after I've outlived
every bullet,every blade
that greeted me in their
violent glory,
after my lungs
grew accustomed to the abuse,
all I broke through
was my resolve,
all I shattered was my soul
all I learned was how to hold my
breath, and
how beautifully painful
it is to cry,beg,and hurt underwater
where the demons will outlive you,
where you'll end up being drowned
by your own intentions
one day,
my body will untangle
itself from its endless slumber
as how you pried off your fingers,
your hands,from their hold
on this cold body,
you know,
I used to be your anchor
now I'm just dead weight
holding you down with me
as I drown
you know,
this corpse understands
how hard it is to love
someone who's
always treading lightly,
who can't shine as bright
as other dying things,
who isn't as phenomenal,
as world-stopping, as mesmerizing
as how your heart pleases
this dying creature knows
that love will never be given
to something that
keeps on bleeding hurt
you should bid farewell soon,
do not stay as witness
leave while it's dark enough,
while the facade could still
lie for us,
leave,let the water wash ashore
let it devour the remains,
let it carry this shipwreck
to its abyss
where,
the body will decompose,
it will die and forget
what the heart wants to remember,
what the mind denies touching
I know,
you will remember
to associate me
with your darkness and demons
who wear another pretty face
and I will remember to forget
how you wanted to forget me
I will hold my breath until the Sun
could assure me of your departure
– W.
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 12:03 PM UTC
1) Muster all the courage you could, take these foreign roads, see that they stretch out longer than the well-lit streets you used to walk together,
2) Remember how fear was cold metal, iron weight on your mouth,but you took the blade between your teeth, kissed the edges all for his glory,
3) If you have walked miles and miles in the landmine of his heart, each step anticipating an unwanted end, tell me, darling, what else could render you petrified?
4) Remember, your bones didn’t rattle, your skin didn’t betray you, your resolve didn’t crumble when you saw all the ****** remains confined in his closet, so why are you shaken now?
5) You learned how to fold yourself to make room for his doubts, his fears, his demons that go beyond the realms of his self-made prison, so why do you now refuse to occupy the space that had always been yours?
6) You’ll drive away, you’ll stop thinking who else could be seated in the front with him, you’ll stop feeling him next to you as he traces the lines of your hand like a map, as if you were actually headed towards anywhere other than the cul-de-sac where you first found this love
7) And there are other places left for you to fill other than the void inside that boy,the world gets so much bigger than the haven you found in his room
8) You’ll crawl your way up to the pedestal, grant yourself all the power you have been denied in the name of being more for other people when they treated you less than what you deserve
9) Baby, swear with all the sad rage of a girl that only served as a cigarette break that you will forgive, that one day you’ll sit across a boy with vacant eyes and you wouldn’t flinch,because he’s just a boy and you are so much more.
10) You are so much more.
-W.
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 3:56 PM UTC
i wonder
what kind of pretty eyes made you see
how dead i was behind mine
i want to ask
how rosy were her cheeks to dismay you of the cold,pale skin that often met your touch
i want to know
how many milky white thighs,model thin legs, and baby soft knees displayed through high-waisted schoolgirl skirts did it take to quit me as your fetish
i want to hear
the joke that made you laugh, made you type the line you once wrote as mine: you have the humor i long for in a girl
and i probably already know all the bands she listens to,all the sad songs you'd bond over but i want to hear her playlist so i would know what to delete off of ours
i want to read all the poems she wrote so i could stop using the same words,the same forms, so i could stop writing about the same boy or maybe i could just stop writing altogether
tell me everything; the way her glasses frame her innocence,the way she gets giddy over odd things,the way she freaks about comic book and manga characters
i don't want to but i still need to see for myself
how she lights up the room,
how she is the still point of the turning world,how she is everything i used to be–only better
i want to
memorize her, as if she is the blueprint of a home I'll never be able to have,i need to keep her picture perfect existence inside my mind so i could stop choking on all the why's
i should know how good she is at making your problems disappear that i started fading into static too
and maybe you don't want to but you need to know
i get pushed out of my own head sometimes, trying to finish the image of your dream girl,trying to make the pieces fit just so i would know what pretty face,which delicate features, what humor, what magical creature did it take to make you see i was too human to be the girl you could love.
-W.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 4:28 AM UTC
burning hues of red,
of bright indigo and yellow,
crashed into the grey horizon
(you are told
your eyes should rest soon),
do not stay as witness
when the depths come
in furious waves of regrets
to drown the ache that
refuses pleas to be heard
by his eyes
denies truth to seen,as
it falls on deaf ears
again i hold my breath,
i'll sink further into the pit
of madness crafted by
my own mind
through your words,
you will ignore their
silence that comes
piercing through,
a thousand decibels
reminding you:
who the hell was I meant
nothing to you,
better will you be loved,
so much more you could be
if you choose to bury
me in the moondust and leave
as for I,
when you've outlived
every bullet,every blade
greeting you in their
violent glory,
when your lungs
are accustomed to the abuse,
you'll learn how to hold your
breath, and
how beautifully painful
it is to beg,cry,and hurt underwater
where tears aren't real,
and pain serves as oxygen
one day,
my body will untangle
itself from its endless slumber
as how you pried off your fingers,
your hands,from their hold
on this cold body,
you know,
i used to be your anchor
now i'm just dead weight
holding you down with me
as i drown
you know,
this corpse understands
how hard it is to love
someone who's
always treading lightly,
who can't shine as bright
as other dying things,
who isn't as phenomenal,
as world-stopping, as mesmerizing
as how your heart pleases
this dying creature knows
that love will never be given
to something that
keeps on bleeding hurt
you should bid farewell soon,
do not stay as witness
leave while it's dark enough,
while the facade could still
lie for us,
leave,let the water wash ashore
let it devour the remains,
let it carry this shipwreck
to its abyss
where,
the body will decompose,
it will die and forget
what the heart wants to remember,
what the mind denies touching
i know,
you will remember
to associate me
with your darkness and demons
who wear another pretty face
and i will remember to forget
the way you wanted to forget me
i will hold my breath until the Sun
could assure me of your departure
-W.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC
you do not remember,is what you should know first,
remind yourself that:
you do not recall writing an eulogy as a love letter,
you forget about the graves you've dug,
all the pretty faces and estranged loves you've buried here in agony once
foreplays should not burn as repeated pictures in the back of your mind–do not speak of how you have this body memorized—
so you do not put the same record on,
you do not dance in the same room,
you do not sway to the same tune,
offered first to those that intoxicated you with life
you do not light her mouth,gasoline boy
you do not fuel her insides
with the same lies that burned you
you do not kiss her still tasting like the bleeding red of someone else's lips
you do not,you cannot **** the sadness out of her
corpses do not feel anything,do not hear you pray to another god
corpses do not have hearts that break upon being touched by hands that know pleasurable pain well in the most repulsive ways
you do not look at the eyes burning with saltwater
you shrug it off as how you ignore warnings and triggers
we revel in the body's warmth,it feels good pretending it's alive, but the body pretends it's not here
pretends it's just paper skin and friction igniting,acting as catalyst of our self-initiated destruction
you chase your high
the locks come loose
everything unhinges from their hold
darling,there is nothing ghosts fear more than being lost
and after the deed is done
you do not stare at the remains,
you do not paint your face with empathy
it's all for love,it's all for fun
besides, dead girls do not bleed
nor do they cry
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC