I am a spectrum of possibilities
mistakes, magic, and life
the world is our prism
so be my light.

Love hurts, maim, can ****
yet, we breath it still.

is a poetry
a limerick
a tragedy

is to put a dagger in people's able hands
hoping they won't slit your throat
when come daylight ends.

'search for the truth' is the guise
upon which Pride
stealthily hides.

as the golden torch
falls into the abyss
millions of sparks rise
to light the path for the amiss.

Alas! my beloved
in flux,

You were never meant to stay.

Wag piliting magmahal ng iba
Pag sarili ay di pa kayang mahalin
Bigyang kahulugan ang sariling talata
Ito’y sa iba huwag hanapin
Pagkat ang malabong imahe
pag binigyan **** kulay,
sadyang malabo parin.
.

to have loved deeply is to be mold
carved by the warmth of the hands you dearly hold
to be loved is to be told
of love reciprocated,
words affirming,
priceless yet cannot be sold.

it was real
but it was not love
it was cleanly folded paper forming origami doves
but its not doves
nor was it love.

it demanded to be felt
to have a deeper meaning in the proximity
like constellations up above
but it was not love
misread by the heart
like stars seemingly aligned to one another but lightyears apart
it was not love.

i wish to stay,
pray,
fight for it to be what we want it to be,
love
but its not enough,
not if its not love.

I revisited this site and saw
How much I've written, how much I've grown.
Saw poems I cant believe I wrote
Words uttered, rhymes of note,
Emotions shared and shown,
Lines made repository of happiness and woes.

Some things have changed
While other remained the same.
I still write about love
Yet love eludes me all the same.
I cant write as actively as I want to be
Inspiration doesn't come in troves anymore, you see.

With age comes responsibilities,
Opened eyes requires facing life's realities.
But I'll continue living, maybe write a line or two
Maybe post it here, just like you do.
Life is hard, that much is true
But I'll still strive to thrive and I hope you do too.

Live, find the beauty in things,
Wonderful sceneries, family gatherings,
special people or precious pets,
in choices you've made, with or without regrets,
I hope even in love lost or memories that stings
You'll find the sliver of good that hopefully it brings

Live through books, music, or through poems
If there is not a person or a place,
may words be your home.

why?

Thoughts traverse my mind
As I walk the road home,
Steps mindlessly taken forward.
By myself, but not alone.

Kept company by my thoughts
About today, about tomorrow,
Of my actions of yesterday
Filled of happiness, or of sorrow.

Have I done what I could?
Is what I've done, what I should?
Should I have done what I did?
Why was I so cringe as a kid.

Given a chance for a life do-over,
Would I make the same choices again?
If I change some things, will I do better?
Or will it be for naught; in vain.

What should I do tomorrow?
Would it still be the same as today?
Am I doing what I want in life?
Or am I wasting it all away?
Am I just going to be stuck here forever?
Existing but so monotonously
Or can I live with the consequences of doing what I want,
And let things be?


Oh this thoughts, they walk with me.
Unrelenting, everyday, constantly.
On the road home, directions known with certainty,
I walk lost in dysphoric reverie.

You're a light
Of course you bring with you
shadows of your past
But alas,
I wish i was mature
But i am not
I still ask
Will i also become
A shadow of your past?