I converse with
The voices in my head

They talk slowly
So their guidance isn't misread

I'd like to fly this life
By way of the bird
Feather free in finding time
Instead of life in a blur

I'd like to sit atop a tree
Rest in peace unfurled
Feather free in my own keep
By way of the bird

From over the bridge
the sky curved into the river
and the winds from the distant hills
carved a smile on his face.

So here he was, at last, all by himself
played upon by a feeling
of being not shadowed anymore
but by the one his very own.

light as the bird, came to his mind,
and making sure no one was around,
he spoke aloud
I'm light as the bird.

Yet a shadow was preying upon him,
an unease, a discomfort, a disequilibrium,
as he heard within, his son saying,

Baba, you need to take a break,
to be with yourself, to be away from us,
to soothe the frayed nerves..

So I have been set free, he thought,
but are the birds really as free
as they appear to be?

So here he was, but his mind was drifting,
and he was calculating like a child.

how many feet below is the river,
would the fall hurt, or would one have to wait,
for the impact with the rushing surface
before the final touch by the boulders?

I shouldn't be perilously close, he stepped back,
muttering three incoherent words..
components of love.

Back to the Rest House,
he was packing his bag.

He was not sure, if his reappearance,
at so short a notice,
would at all be, a pleasant surprise.

Today......in some places, heavy rains and
gusty winds rule, no way to control them
today, here where i am....sun beams with
fire.........hands keep fanning the hot spell
away, i think of ice...of snow falling from
heaven....touching the skin with coldness
that freezes the sadness in our heads...we
slowly become aware.........silently, gently
it fills spaces...seeming weightless.......yet
it soothes feelings....every drop, a comfort
we ponder more, as it amasses....painting
hills,  mountains, with  immaculate white
all over.....as if choking, but never slaying
cleansing........healing.......even the human
heart and mind, from bad energy......from
stubborn dirt......from being broken.....the
sparkle of white and  the refreshing  cold
bring clarity  to one's darkened  thoughts
a respite....a shedding of old, broken skin
much like new existence..............a rebirth.


Sally

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. bayan
September 16, 2018

She smiled to the proposal.

I marked on paper the site
where screeching gulls
would shut out our voice
and her toes white as rice
curl in the touch of waves
waiting a freakish wind
pushing mine into hers
passing seconds to eternity.

She felt vaguely beautiful
when my shoulder held the earth
shaped like her head.

Do you still love me?
my silence questioned,
but she said nothing.

I thought I heard,
Yes.

When I was little I used to be scared of everything.
I swore there were bloodstains on the coffee table.
One night my grandma saw me fist fighting in my sleep.
You can’t forget the traumatic things.
It haunts me in my dreams.
My mother did the best she could.
I don’t blame her. **** happens and you roll with the punches.
My father never said he loved me enough.
I used to sit by the front door waiting for his headlights but once again, another no show.
He loved the liquor more than me.
I don’t blame him.
Because now I do too.
I wish I could fill the white spaces with something wholesome, something sweet.
But by now the pain has become another layer of my being.
I’m formed with bad habits tied into my heartstrings.
Like the bittersweet taste smeared across my gums and in between my teeth.
And I can’t help but look in the mirror and ask myself, “who were you before the world made you cold?”
My mother says I was the empathetic one.
As long as I can remember I’ve been living life on the run.
Hiding from myself, stuffing, suppressing all emotions.
I used to know what it was like to drown but now I steer clear of the oceans.
I used to tell myself that I swallowed that water instead of drowning but my lungs just grew accustomed to breathing underwater.
I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to a man who was much more stronger than me.
He would press my face into the sheets, making it seemingly impossible to breathe.
He’s the reason why I started drinking.
I’d love to feel that burning sensation crawling down my throat into the pit of my stomach.
It hurt less than the nights he’d creep into my bedroom.
I used to sleep in the closet.
It took years of therapy to break that habit.
I won’t ever let the fear of him seep into my bone marrow again.
It’s like the word UNLOVABLE is tattooed on my inner thigh.
I wish people came with warning labels.
I wish my mother could see the signs before he laced his body with mine.
But I don’t resent her for it.
It’s not her fault.
And if you ever ask me if I regret anything I’ll say no.
Because all of this molded me into the person I am today.
Some days it’s hard to keep the bad thoughts at bay.
They swim in my waters making the currents hard to stand against.
But when the world is falling apart around me I refuse to crumble.
Because I am strong.
And I still choose to believe that most people are good.
I refuse to be cynical.
I refuse to let the bitterness hide in my small intestine.
I won’t let the enemy win by making me cold again.
I am warm sunshine, I am the feeling of sand between toes, I am celestial.
And I will associate myself with the word strong. I will take that to my grave.
Because I refuse to be defined by anything less than brave.

I'm tired of people
I'm tired of hearing

I'm tired of feeling
I'm tired of seeing

I'm tired of turning
Everything upside down

I'm tired of life
And tired of feeling down