Almost 70,000 words
Still, I can't figure out
Why poetry seem to flow
When I feel like giving up

9000 days and more
Still, my heart betrays me  
I guess we'll only live
Once we choose to be happy

Can You tell me the secret?
Can You show me The plan?
My heart yearns to know
Please tell me I can.

The hardest part
Will be the days that come after.
Prepare your heart.

You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
Waiting,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”

When you are alone
And you stare at the ceiling
And time feels like an eternity
When you’re sad,
That’s when you become a poet.

When you are with someone
And your heart flutters
And time feels too short
When you’re happy,
That’s when you become a poet.

But when the sky was a different shade of blue
And my heartbeat was louder
Than the drops of heavy rain
And time felt like it froze
As I felt my first numbing pain
Of being left,
That’s when I became a poet.

I see your face in every person I meet
In the street
And I wonder,
“Do you see the same?”
I can still hear you call my name
As I turned to look at you,
You smiled.
There’s still a trace of that smile
Somewhere deep within my memories it lies.
Buried but not forgotten.
How can I forget
When you make me want to remember?
Your smile has always been that trigger.
But it was really the silence.
The silence that spoke a lot of things.
That pulled me closer.
It is what I choose to remember.
You, standing across from me, not saying a single word,
Only smiling.
But right then and there,
You inaudibly uttered a million things in my heart.
And I chose to remember.
Because losing someone doesn’t always mean you have to forget.

It is something I will always remember.
The low rumble of her laugh while she’s talking,
The effort to contain
the excitement in her voice,
The sheer joy evident
through her dark-lined eyes,
almost disappearing to a slit.
She’s a work of art, really.
She can smile with her eyes.
A beauty yet to be discovered by many
for it is hidden
behind all the society’s preferences
of what beauty is
or should be.
Better that way for hers is
an unconventional beauty.
The kind that can only be
seen and described by poetry.
The kind that doesn’t have to
be known by the world
But should be.
It is true.
That in places people tend to not look,
There is beauty.

For those who are in love,
Love is a force of nature
Unstoppable and powerful
Pure and perfect.

But for the brokenhearted,
Love creates the illusion
That everything is good
Love is not blind but it does blind
It blinds you into believing
That the rose has no thorns
And that you can cross any ocean
Or survive any storm.
It creates another version of you
That is vulnerable, accepting,
And forgiving
No matter how many times you've been hurt.
It's a diversion, a dead end.
Love is jumping in a cliff, blindfolded,
And expecting for someone to catch you.
An intricately constructed algorithm-
A subtle lie,
For the brokenhearted.

Yet love is unfathomable
It's a powerful force that changes people
Moves even the biggest mountains
Breaks the sturdiest rocks
And melts the coldest glaciers.
Love is both monochrome and
A kaleidoscope of colors.

Someone’s ray of sunlight will always be my ray of sunlight
But I don’t know why it’s different with you
That day when it didn’t feel like a day
But an hour
Of you and I, the rest blurring out of the picture,
You smiled.
And that was the game changer.
I was scared of that smile
Scared of the joy evident through those eyes
Scared of the possibility of the future
Because I knew your happiness depended on mine
And I knew somehow I could break that smile
I don’t want to.
That’s why I left without saying goodbye
Like a coward.
But you, a fool.
You shouldn’t have smiled.

The only light in the vast expanse of darkness
When there are no stars to light up the night sky.
The moon, in every phase, continuously illuminates
With the right kind of light, not the blinding one.
It brightens my day in a way that the sun can't.

The sun has a wondrous beauty of its own
But I have always loved the moon.

All it takes is one
One person who'll understand,
Who knows,
And accepts.
You don't even need to fix
Or glue the pieces together
You just have to pick them up.
Pick them up and embrace them.
For broken things don't always need fixing,
Just acceptance of the fact that they are broken
Until time will mend and bring the pieces back together.

Maybe this is the reason why I usually want the heroine of a story
To end up with the second guy-
He usually has the traits of an antagonist.
Because I understand exactly how it feels like
To be misunderstood, to be constantly treated like the villain,
To know that I'm flawed,
And to have people point it out as if I don't already know.
I've always hoped for antagonists to have their happy ending, as well.
Everybody deserves a happy ending.
Though I know it doesn't always end that way.

All it takes is one
One person brave enough to pick up the pieces
Knowing it might cut him in the process
But tells himself it'll be worth it.
One.

Side by side we lie on the rooftop
The night sky, our neverending ceiling
I don't know why I suddenly thought then
Maybe I should write a poem again.

Can we stare at the stars like the sun won't appear?
Can we just forget the world and lay here?
I dread for the day to come and the sun to rise
For I know that tonight is our temporary paradise.

Our heads just barely touching, an inch of space in between
Our hearts trying to reach out but our minds hesitating
It is not a cruel fate nor a cruel life
If I was allowed even just for a moment to have you by my side.

Why not look through the glass instead of looking at the raindrops on the window?
I wondered.
It rained yesterday.
I was on the passenger seat of a jeepney looking at the raindrops on the window, on my way home.
It is not usually like this. I don't usually think of the rain as a bane to my existence or as an obstruction to my path.
I think of it as a beautiful lyricless song that one would usually play on repeat, the words would unconsciously form inside your mind, your heart making a lyrics of its own.
Because the heart usually knows something that the brain knows nothing of.
But yesterday was different.
I looked at the rearview mirror and saw the passengers at the back.
One was holding a phone, talking in a hushed voice,  another passenger was looking at me intently through the mirror, and the others were looking outside- perhaps, eager to go home or reliving their day just as I was.
Perhaps, it was because of my day.
How it went.
How I went to school and felt empty.
How everything felt meaningless the moment I heard that the person who used to be my friend didn't extend the same courtesy I would have given her by saying directly to my face what she wanted to say instead of going behind my back.
Coward.
But I, a fool.
Perhaps it was that.
Or maybe it was when I shared my problems to someone
And asked him to show me the brighter side of the picture
But he showed me how I was the dark picture, instead.
I, a fool.
Perhaps it was that.
Or perhaps it was when I decided to write a novel
But when I held the pen
It felt unfamiliar
Beneath my fingers.
Perhaps it was that.
Or the days that I have punished myself by remembering him.
Perhaps it was that.
Perhaps it was not the rain.
Perhaps it was the way I looked at the raindrops on the window instead of looking through the glass.

The sky is clearer than it was yesterday
But there's still traces of the aftermath of rain
I wonder what the weather will bring today
I don't think I can bear another day,
standing in the rain.

I tend to not bring an umbrella
Perhaps it's the reason why I got soaked
Perhaps I should blame myself
That I went through such a tormenting cold.

They told me to dance in the rain
But how can I dance when I can barely move?
The rain is alright, I love the rain
It's the cold that numbed me and took too long to subside.

So I walked along the pavement
After the heavy downpour last night
And watched the puddles of water
Reflecting the sunlight.

Cry for a little while
Wipe your own tears
And don't wait for someone to wipe them for you
Then carry on...

She tiptoed lightly
On a floor made of glass
Graceful as a feather
Counting her footsteps
Figuring out
How to fall without breaking
Though she knew
There was a crack.

I'm in a state of quantum superposition.

There's a pain
A slight tinge of pain,
she tried to convince herself.
A quick stab
But a permanent marker
More so because it's the quiet kind of pain.
The kind that keeps her up at night
The kind that inspires her poems at 3am
The kind that kills you inside
The kind that is gnawing its way into the depths of her being.

It's excruciatingly loud
But only she can hear it.

Let me turn my back from you
Let me feel as empty
As your eyes when I saw
You walk past me.
Let me do the same as what
You did to me
So you'll feel how I felt
When you left me.

The stillness amuses me
The stopping of time
A moment of your own-
on your own.

Trapped within the white walls
Of a place for the sick
A place for the sick?
I already died.

I killed myself inside-
A long time ago.
The pretty red liquid flows
Invisible to the eye
I killed myself inside.

Tempted but scared
To pick the last petal
Of the bleeding rose.

So I looked for other flowers
To preoccupy my mind
"Think happy thoughts"
Is what they say
As I greedily and desperately gasped for air
And wished for the numbing sensation to subside.

All I want is an escape
To never think at all
Think of happy thoughts, you say?
The happy thoughts were my downfall.

Tell me where I failed
On being your friend
Tell me when it ended
And how it all began.

I tried to brush off the fact
That you stabbed me in the back
I knew and my heart was bleeding
And it was bleeding for you.

How hard must it be
For you to be stuck with me
That you had to pretend it's okay
For me to be your friend.

It's okay now, I forgive you
Just be honest and tell me the truth
Did you mean what you said
When you promised never to leave me
Just like they all did?

I guess by now I should know
But it's always easier to be comforted by a lie
Than be slapped with the truth
That you did not care
Not once not ever.

I opened myself up to you
Something I do not often do
But you betrayed me still.
Tell me,
What did I ever do to you?

I see the lights and wonder,
"Would I have seen them any different
If you did not exist?"
I used to see them even from afar,
Admire and compare them to stars,
I may have written a poem or two
Of how
When I see the lights,
I think of you.
But now
After everything we've been through
I see them as a constant reminder
That lights can go off any second
And leave you in the dark.
Just like how the day gives way to the night
And waits until it needs to give light
The only difference is
I waited but you never came back.

Distant
Like the moon
She became
Trying to mend herself
While secretly wishing
For someone to mend her.
While others only see the darkness,
She's secretly hoping
For someone, just one person will do,
To notice
That she also has light.
To know
The little things
That make her happy
And the little things
That make her sad.
To admire the fact that
Despite the darkness enveloping
And the stars competing
For all the attention,
She's okay
With having only one soul
To look at her
And believe in her
When she can't do the same for herself.
She wishes to be loved as the moon
And not just the moon among the stars.

As distant as clouds
As cold as the pouring rain
Caged her heart again

You don't have to change
To prove them you're not the same
You don't have to be the same
To prove them you haven't changed.

Blending in to hide yourself
From prying, critical eyes
Blending in out of fear
Of enemies in angel's disguise.

Little chameleon, be careful
Not to lose yourself
This world is a labyrinth
And sometimes, a game of chess.

It's hard to be someone else
But harder to not be yourself
So come out of that camouflage
And just be yourself.

Little chameleon, don't be afraid
I am here to say,
"If no one else will accept you
Then I am here, I'll stay."

You're supposed to be confident
But I feel the opposite inside
Supposed to love yourself
But I just want to disappear and hide
You're supposed to be positive
I tried and tried
Endless voices reaching out for me
To do this and that,
Be this and that.
The truth is,
You're drowning me.
Am I expected to be always happy?
Supposed to be.
I was, I am, I'm going to be
But for now
Be silent
Your words are killing me
They're supposed to be helping me.
I'm supposed to be free.

I thought of ways to tell you
I wasn't ready yet
To move on is to walk away
From all the memories I kept.
Each day I lie and tell myself
It's easy to forget
But it's easier to pretend
When it's harder to forget.

I see you now with her
And fooled myself, "I'm fine"
But in my heart,
With a mind of its own, it thought,
"My chapter is now over
While yours has just begun."

Is missing you the same as missing the memories of you?
Or am I fooling myself once again by believing I do?

Everyday, I struggle to be a better version of myself. There are nights that I would cry because I don't want to be this weak pathetic thing who cries over small things easily. But everyday, I also get to be reminded of God's grace, love, and mercy. It's really hard to accept your negative side but it's much harder if you don't acknowledge that it's there. Still, I feel better knowing that each day, I'm striving hard to get there and I'm getting there. To the point wherein I don't have to justify my wrong actions by saying that I'm not perfect because I'm just human and it's in my nature. We are all works in progress, still being chiseled by God through  trying circumstances. (And I'm not referring, in a biased manner, only to the God that I believe in but to a God that each one of us personally believe in, no matter what religion you're in.) Perhaps, somewhere deep inside me was the hope that the world isn't or need not be just about strife, insecurity, corruption, betrayal, conflict, war, etc. That we can choose to help each other by accepting one another's differences as well as flaws and to forgive even if it's hard. I cannot speak for myself because I've been through times(and I still am going through times) wherein I still find it hard to forgive, but at least I can try to be that person. We all can. Living in this world taught me great things, having met various kinds of people taught me greater things but most importantly, believing in God  taught me the greatest things.

"He replied, 'Whether he is a sinner or not, I don't know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!'"
-John 9:25 (NIV)

An afterthought just came to me after writing this. If you're on your death bed or breathing your final breath, would you be brave enough to say you lived and not just existed? Moreover, would you be brave enough to confidently face your Creator knowing you lived for others and not just for your self? Just a thought.

To fall asleep
Out of exhaustion
From all the muffled screaming
And overflowing tears
That drained your energy
To fall asleep
Knowing
You would rather not wake up
For eternity
To fall asleep
And dream
Of you and me
When we were still together
To fall asleep
In a heartbeat
I'd do it just to see you again.
But I am awake
And I am in pain
And this is reality
So I must stay awake
And hold on
And fight the impulse
To fall asleep
Once again.