my inbox is a wonderland
a rollercoaster;
an amusement park itself!
four years ago
said the time stamp
he said "hi"
no matter how much i boast
on my way with words
most times i'm just lost.
my inbox is a wonderland
a rollercoaster;
an amusement park itself!
seven years ago
said the time stamp
she said, "you're not my friend."
no matter how much i boast
with my way with people
every relationship comes out with scars.
my inbox is a wonderland
a rollercoaster;
an amusement park itself!
five years ago,
as indicated by the time stamp
my friend told me, "i hope it gets better for you"
no matter how much i boast
about my big heart and love for them
i always forget to tuck them close.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:40 AM UTC
i dedicate my time
on your blog and social media
you dedicate yours on writing
about your soul mate;
the one who got away
(and of course, i'm a pouting mess
but i still read them nonetheless)
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
one,
two,
three...
...you're under my spell
counting seconds from now to infinity,
you're bound to me.
invisible chains, no, i'm no witch
just a charmer, more than a pretty face,
and less of a golden-hearted character from your favorite bedtime story.
three,
two,
one...
... i'm falling out
wear that choker and chase me
to the depths of the earth.
counting seconds from infinity to now,
you're bound to me; just another cursed heart.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
at the back of fresh, faded or even others' receipts
in front your pack of cigs and your floral, feminine taste on place mats,
were snippets of your poetry.
(none were about me, obviously)
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
your obsession with blackholes made me wish i was one
like the way i once wished i am math and science
oh, what a geek you are!
(to make me compete with these things for your attention)
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 7:27 AM UTC
I.
i opened the cabinet at the basement and my gasp was trapped in my throat
in front of me unfold universes in the form of mountains layer by layer in stacks of paper.
II.
undone were the buttons of my blouse and my gasp was trapped in my throat because she's here
and i needed to build another universe; another escape route; another layer of another mountain.
III.
spread were my legs at the study desk of the classroom and my gasp was trapped in my throat because she said i need to be quiet or else they'd hear
and i needed to focus myself to the time it will be over, at the clock ticking after-class minutes, i prayed for timeskips.
IV.
after dinner, open arms, my mother asked what i wanted for my birthday
and i needed the comforts of the words "safe" and "no more touching," of the promise of "no more after-class sessions" but i just told her i wanted another notebook for my stories.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
if i remember correctly,
you wrote a manual on how to swim
in this sea of disappointments
wading my way on above-me water *****
the energy, the life, the sureness out of me
**** this pressure everyone puts around me
i am naked under currents; don't peak
the water had been dyed pitch black now
the color of doubts
in their eyes they stitch words on my skin
capital letters p, e, r, f, e, c, and t
they decorate me like a diy existence
if i remember correctly,
you wrote a manual on how to drown suffocating-deep into one's sweetest dream
give it to me now
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
there was bravery in her song
and invisible beats were composed of tugging heartstrings
and hopeful rests blending well at that octave, note after note.
there was magic when the writer got lost in his own story
navigating there, making mistakes, being more human than god in contrast to others who had journals of do's and don'ts.
there was something positive whenever i wake up each day and face the battle
of standing up, being alive and practically living life
positive whenever i say no to backing down and giving up
in her song
in his words
and in my every waking moment
there's life and humanity and mistakes and it's all right
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
the speed of a falling raindrop
is 32 feet per second
it's something constant
i have read about
at the science section
of a worn down daily.
given different conditions
and cloud forms from nimbus
to cumulonimbus
or if there even exist heavier,
darker, sulkier clouds,
then it will remain the same.
raindrops will drop at that speed
like the way cherry blossoms
fall at 5 centimeters per second
as identified by Shinkai
accompanied by that sad story,
sad love song and sad vibrant colors.
i have always expressed
adoration at constants
starting at elementary algebra
when miss hernandez introduced
the concept of non changing
ever the same values
unaffected things
like pi or the gravitional pull
or even the speed of light itself.
i always get to thinking
if constant hearts ever exist
or if it does, for how long?
ever changing had been
a major human quality
so is inconsistence
a constant in the human heart?
the anatomy of a constant heart
is a favorite mind palace of mine
i wander at the highest floor
taking my time to build up what would be
the ideal constancy and perfection to me
a woman of digits, numbers and measures
a paradox of consistent inconsistencies
wrapped around every pumping chamber
smooth muscles embracing the equation
like dialogues of yes's and no's
between tissues and muscles and blood
a focus group discussion of conflicting parallels
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC