because others could not have it
Guilt taught me I could not watch videos of people ******* because ******* was a sin
And that my body was sacred so only a man I loved
and was married to could touch it

For as long as I remember
He was there, smiling

When I was seven,
My mother told me I was born a sinner
And guilt was just the desire to be forgiven from this natural condition
So every time my body pressed against a pillow
Rhythmically
In my grandmother’s room
With no one
but the sight of Guilt judging me with His piercing eyes —
I did not question it

I was a sinner
Simply for loving my own body

Pasayloa ko… pasayloa mi sa among mga sala, my mother chanted in every prayer —

I repeated it, obeyed it, until I came to believe it

So when I stopped believing
When I knew I stopped believing
He was there, patiently
Bidding me to come back

Even as I rode through bliss
Rhythmically
Hair pulled back, the bed damp
Used condoms at the side
Breathlessly eating and being eaten out by
this man I just met

His piercing eyes, unflinching stare
****** me harder than anyone ever did

Guilt was my religion —
And I was His prodigal child

Bare bodies intertwine
Lingering warmth feels divine
I think to myself, "I would die for this"

Though now we are far away
Screens just do not feel the same
I think to myself, "I would wait for this"

Ice cold in my room
The dim flicker of a joke on your face
I think to myself, "I would smile for this"

Til I come back to you
I will wait, smile, and die a thousand times so
I think to myself, "I would live for this"

Is not written by the victors
History is being written by
The ones who rule
The ones who follow
The ones who shout
The ones who choose to become hollow
The ones who live each day with dying breaths
The ones who bear themselves in gold
The ones who fight, the ones who fought
The ones who try, the ones who don’t
The ones who share
One flag of blue, white, and red
Three stars around a sun
rise from the shadows of the dead

Warm it up while we're apart
With your hands, a sanctuary long overdue
As I hold yours, and protect it through and through
Tonight, we sing the most beautiful song
Written for two, for a world more known
Outside, the storm continues and though that may be
But at this moment, at this point of time, you have found me
And I've found you, and I no longer want to hide
Because when I look the other way, I see you by my side
And it's a place I want to be, to come back to, a place to be happy
To live, to grow, to change, to see
Colours once unbeknownst to my eyes
A love that lasts even outside the goodbyes
So hold my heart, hold it close
Small as it is, it hopes, it loves, it trusts, and it knows

Just one more.
Just once more.
Every time we hug,
My heart refuses to let go.

I feel at peace when I’m with you

I look forward to the future
Where I can be next to you

Maybe just see your face
All the beautiful parts
That make you, you

And there, everything would be right
There, everything would make sense to me

And maybe, just maybe

That’s a good enough reason to try.

Like it was meant for you to say
The letters drip from your lips like honeydew
Its syllables walk upon the ramparts of your tongue
Lulling me in your savoury taste
I slumber with ethereal addiction

I wanna cuddle under blankets
As we sit beside each other in the plane
Flying to wherever
But for now, that might just be a dream
As I sit across a couple cuddling
Imagining what could be
And wake up as every second I go farther     away from        
            
you

Maybe one day my love we could be that too
But for now we shall wait past
sunrises and sundowns
airports and city skylines
blinding lights
heavy traffic

solitude

until we’re in each other’s arms again
Wait for me, okay?

An old man begged outside the car
Under scorching heat
I didn’t know if by keeping the windows closed
I kept the cool in
Or kept the heat out
As  the smoke billowed around me
Blinded me from the poverty
And only coldness remained in my heart
Never to come out

I told myself a few years ago
when my heart was left abandoned
on a dusty, cracked road with no one else to go home to

"I wanna start writing poetry again"
as I numbed all the pain and prepared all the stolen luggage
to start life anew and take myself far from the people who knew
the lost soul I was back then
and maybe… forget

Instead,
I remembered

I remember when I started writing poems at 11
I wrote my way through teenage angst and unexplained tears
regret, confusion, hatred at the world that didn't seem to understand me, when the words did

I grew older and by 16, I saw how anger turned into sadness and sadness turned into love
and every poem I wrote took me to places higher than my hands could ever reach
a world of connections, hidden meanings, and clarity

Clarity —

until love turned me blind and I began writing poems to lie
to myself that I loved the person who said he loved me yet touched me in places the words never did
as I hid in my own broken corridors for the last two years
with a poet who lost all the words she had to her fears
because she gave them all away to those who didn’t even know how to read poetry

Years passed and now the poet has awoken
A new light shining in the places she thought she had forgotten
endlessly flowing with words, words, words
serving as a ticket to the unseen tomorrow
she's now willing to take

And maybe until now she's still afraid to write the next line

But she has begun to realize —
she can never escape from poetry

She can only pick up the pen once again.

Sharing an imaginary kith
Through straws
I may be getting older, but boy does
That give me schmetterlinge

I remember several months ago
I met a guard by a waiting shed
As I waited for my dad to pick me up from the pier
His name, I've already forgotten
He was around his 40s, or 50s
Childless, if I remember
Had a tough life
Graduated in International Relations
Came from a well to do Chinese family
Yet all came crashing down so soon
After a few decisions then and there
He spoke to me in English
We talked for awhile
He said, people usually looked down
On guards like him
Thinking they were uneducated
They couldn't possibly have interesting lives
And at that moment I realized
People pass by every single day
Without giving them second glances
Without realizing they're human too
With stories as exciting as those in screens.

My father arrives to pick me up.
I stand up, glance at the guard and my father, and I see -

Life is truly spectacular.

As I sit by the passenger seat and drive  away
The scenery changing before my eyes
I wonder if I was the first person to just sit down
And listen
I wonder how many sat down by that waiting shed before I did
Listening to his story
And I wonder how many have since then and will continue to
Listen
I wonder if I'll ever pass by him again
I wonder where he is right now
Is he still by that waiting shed?
Did he ever get a child?
Does he still remember me?
Was it perhaps all a dream I made up?
Who knows?

I wonder with glee and sadness
Knowing there are billions out there
With stories I will never know.

In my own waiting shed, I shall tell my story too,
Through my own fleeting life
Through the decisions I'll make
Through the people I'll love
Through the people I'll lose
Through these poems -

And I hope somebody listens.

You wake up three hours after I do
I sleep three hours earlier than you
Sometimes three hours is all it takes
To realize we're not all the same
And that's okay
Because love is a constant wait
And I would wait for you each day
Forever, if I may
Just to see that smiling face
Again.

We leave parts of us in the words we write
For our present selves to live and believe in
For our future selves to wonder
For our past selves to be remembered

-- Isn't that beautiful?

Writing lines like conversations
That live on as long as they're read
Never washed away from the imprints of history
The greatest things left unsaid

Reading minds from long ago
A place no one else will know
But see, in writing you get to be
Yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever

-- A legacy.

For breakfast, lunch, and dinner!
Meals aplenty
Beauty in delectable harmony
Oh hand me a fork, a spoon, a knife
Who I am depends on this course
I stand tall in my throes
For Lemons and Bratwurst —
Free for all!

Is a sum of choices
Both good and bad
Beautiful and sad
But why am I so certain
I've made the most beautiful choice --
Falling in love with you?

Entails a lot of risk
When we love, we hand over our fragile hearts
For others to take care of
And I have to admit
That is a frightful thought
The possibility of losing someone
Of hurting someone
And of being hurt ourselves

Yet at the same time
Love entails a lot of hope
When we love, someone’s name begins
To sound familiar through the years
That they begin to become part of our routines
Yet every “I love you” sounds quite new
And no matter how unclear the path may be
And how broken we were and will be
We still manage to love again and move forward
So we can spend a lifetime
Uncovering the enigma
That is this person
Who may be composed of the same matter
As eight billion specimens
But contains a story
Far more known
Far more beautiful than anyone else’s

They can try, but either science nor philosophy nor literature (I admit) can ever truly explain it.

To understand the incomprehensible
To risk when we never expected to
To take a leap of faith and take the chance
To bring ourselves a warmth
We thought we had already lost long ago
Showing us the way to a
Home we thought we never had
Beautiful, I say
I could get used to this.

“Yo. How’d your day go?”
“So - ”

This, is home.

You are home.

While lust is a sweetened latte
Both in their own ways good
Though one easier to swallow
One is healthier, the other a desire
One gives a sugar crash, the other pure coffee flavor

Sometimes you find both your Americano and latte in one person
Sometimes you don’t - and that's okay
Sometimes you need a sprinkle of milk and sugar every now and then
Sometimes having it plain's enough to get you through the day

But no matter how many ways I’ve had my coffee
I always come back to you, my Americano
Simple, bitter, and just right

I’m not alone
I never have been
You were always there waiting
To hold me in your arms
As if they were made for just this moment
And my heart is now in pieces
We let it shatter
For a new beginning
The lifetime we’re spending together
For months
For weeks
For days
For hours
For minutes
For seconds
Just for this
Just for... you
Cause you’re not alone
I was right here waiting for you too

There is no manual for love
That's what hurts the ******* most
I don't know anything
Why I'm here
What I'm doing
The steps to make this all alright
I cannot depend on contradictory articles
Should I leave
Should I stay
Should I try again
Should we talk about it in the morning
There is no manual for love
I should stop searching
But I continue to

I listen to the humming
It echoes inside
That is your music

Not at all
But that’s me


Anxiety isn’t pretty.

Numbskull or numbheart
or Numbmind
Numbsmile

Everyday I wear a tear-stained shirt
It stains itself … every so often

To the point its gotten used to its new color

Blessed be the moment
I will never have again
The smile
I will never see again
The warmth
I will never feel again
The touch
I will never find again
Because I’ve already found them
In you

on an average
we think 50,000 thoughts each day
40,000 of which are negative
dear, that 10,000 is you

feeling is a double-edged sword
on one hand, you write poems, fall in love, make art
on the other, you see scars from feeling too much

never thought I’d want you again
never thought I’d need you again
but I’m scared to lose what I feel
how I feel
when I feel

so tell me what I should choose
to feel, to write
or to not feel ever again, to slowly die inside —

which?