She asked,
"How about me?"
Followed by,
"Do you even care about me?"
Asking,
"Do you love me?"
Saying,
"I don't wanna get hurt anymore"
Always pointing out that,
"I have trust issues"
Reminding me that she was,
"I was broken"

How about me?
Do you even care about me?
Do you love me?
I also don't want to get hurt.
I also have problem trusting others.
I was also broken.

Here we are,
How come two weeks feels like 2 years?
How come its only you that gets comfort?
How come its only you who has trust issues?
How come its only you who gets to be broken?

I'm tired..

Pangako na ibibigay sayo ang mundo,
Ibibigay ang lahat sa’yo kahit mula sa kabilang dulo.
Yanigin man ng mundo ang daan ko sayo,
Hindi ako susuko makita ang mahal ko.
Salubungin man ako ng mataas na alon
Handa akong languyin ito mapatunayan,
Ang aking pagmamahal sa iisang taong dahilan ng akin pag-hinga.
Matakpan man ng abo ang langit,
Hindi mapipigilan ang aking pag hanap sa aking iniibig.

Sa panahon ng pandemya, ang Pagasa ko’y Nawala,
Sa kabila ng lahat ako’y binigyan mo ng ligaya.
Nagging ilaw sa madilim na umaga,
Mga ngiti mo’y aking Nakita.
Gumalaw man ang inaapakan natin dito sa mundo,
Hindi ako mapalalayo dahil ako’y lagging na sa tabi mo.
Nang ika’y aking makita Nakita ko ang Pagasa
Huminahon ang lahat pati ang bulkan ay napayapa.

Hey, here we are again..
Another attempt to sail the seas
Scared of the deep blue I promise you,
I really thought it was going to be you..
Again, here we are..
In the middle of the sea of affection.
I see nothing but a broken reflection.
The old me, the old selection.
Again, what are we doing?
Another cycle, another title, another attempt to sale.
In the end we are just a sinking ship.
A ship without a sailor.
Little by little,
piece by piece,
Finding the treasure wasn't the plan,
A rejected captain has failed to sail the seas once again.

Roses are red, violets are blue
I don't sleep at night 'cause I'm thinking of you.
So roses are red, violets are blue
It's all in my head, no matter what I do.

Slowly losing red ink,
So afraid the writer won't blink.
writing poems, that's what they think.
a death note is waiting and it has red ink.

If the writer continues,
people will hear a bad news.
They won't know unless they try his shoes,
writing with red ink while feeling the blues.