Here's to the writers—

You have the power to paint words
Into beautiful art—
To be able to touch a soul—
To touch one's heart

You can make the stormy sky blue—
Stop the waves from crashing to the shore
You can make all the withered flowers bloom—
Turn winter into summer, a glimpse of gold

You can make someone's dark day colorful—
Gather hope to put in between your words
Make them feel that they are understood—
That they aren't alone in this cruel world

You can mend someone's broken heart—
Put love in between your lines
Let them know that they are enough—
That being hurt is just a part of life

Yes—
We can make a whole new perspective—
We can create a world of our own
And no, we don't speak only for ourselves—
But also for all the lost souls

—Thalia Bautista; Just keep writing

The sun has risen already, has hidden
Already behind the clouds that
Cover this town and all
Its ***** little secrets.
Bees surround me with sound
To blot out the profound thoughts
Swimming around in my mind
Without a hope to find
An answer to life.
What once was a tree is now
A path for the power lines,
We cut down what lies in the way
Of a "better day" where screens
Dictate what it means to be alive.
How can I see what's next when
There is no magical text to give
Me solace when my heart pounds
And the silence shakes the ground
Beneath my weary feet.
We're drones on our phones put
On a path lain out by the wrath
Of ages, progression or regression
Depends on your perspective.

there's a sense of loneliness that creeps up my heart at 2 in the morning. it is the loneliness that i have felt since you left without any goodbyes.

i look up and see nothing but the emptiness of a dimly lit and cold room - shivering, not because of the cold breeze the air conditioning blows but because of the lost of the warmth from your words and presence. maybe, you can drop a message or a note? something that can remind me of you, oh God, who am i kidding? everything reminds me of you.

it is the stuffed toy that still lies on a spot beside my pillow, hoping that somewhat it can give me comfort.

the glow in the dark stars on my cabinet; because you've always loved science, the stars and space.

my brother's bedsheet; just because coincidentally, he had to have it in your favorite character.

some poem that i've scrolled through; just because the words fit you like a puzzle.

just like that, everything is all about you.

you always seem to find a way to make it back into my life without knowing it, nor wanting it. because in reality, all these are just my excuses to remember you, even if you don't remember me at all.

She was not fragile like a flower;
She was fragile like a bomb.

I didn't even ask
To be your sun
Or your moon.

All I wanted
was to be
Your Sunday afternoons.

How many empty calendars spaces
I wasted,
Waiting for you.