is selfless
wake up early
to cook
her family's
breakfast.

She--
is selfish
wake up early
to breakfast
her family's
cook.

love something in between
love the chase
love the adventure,
but this time
the wings failed to ****** the wind
love the rush
love the warmth
love the ecstasy--
euphoria by something borrowed
love the game
and play it hard
fight or fold
yet what's at stake
is more than I'm willing to risk

You are the blaring alarm,
the cold whisper of fan blades
the first thing I feel
a reminder of the life we're borrowing.

You are the black pen,
the IDs swinging on navy sling
the very last thing I think of
before leaving.

You are the three-pages homework
of five classes
that I would cram in the morning.
You are the two hours sleep,
inside the cab,
that I indulge every evening.

You are the second one
on my Sudoku puzzle,
the scientific calculator
for my course on accounting.
You are the seemingly non-existent hole
of the silver needle,
you are the one I'll always be missing.

And throughout the day
of embodied lies,
savored smiles,
breath-taking laughs,
agonizing hollowness,
you would creep in--
fill me.

You are all that I see,
everything else fades into the background.

I’m drowning, I said.
Swim, you snapped.

I don’t know how,
I just don’t know where to start.
If I should fix me—
how to fix me.

Do it one at a time,
sun peeked through your smile.

My ankles were chained,
locked in rusty old metals
and key’s drowning deep.

Dive it in.

I don’t know how to do it.
Tears resounded on ocean waters,
they never will back out.
Demons will always pry onto your pretty mind,
before you could catch your breath.

They burn well.
Before it hurt,
they burnt your lungs.
And you still,
try to catch your breath
hopelessly.

Live, you said.
I’ll be here.
I’m always here.
You could use my shirt,
or my shoulder,
or take my blood.

Shy thing,
thank you.

They say
I'm so passionate
with my words,
truth is
poetry is just something
that keeps me
alive.

I didn't know
why leaving
appear so attractive
to me
but then
I always
see myself
coming back
to you
over
and over
again.

your melodic memories haunt
on perfectly pitched darkness
I see you through this blindness
won't you just let me be

bluish bruises you mark me
iron taste as I see your face
can't you let me run this chase
please dear, let me be

You met her.
As a girl growing up to be curious,
Growing up always asking question
And the only way to satisfy them
Is to put on your backpack,
Loaded with extravagant will,
And go on to an epic adventure
To get answers.
Every single time.
As a girl who only have herself to cry on--
As a girl who only have her shadow as a bestfriend--
As a girl who only have herself who listens--
Meeting someone who understands overwhelmed.
You're alike in so many ways.
The hardships over people that surrounds you.
Every kind of friend.
Every expectation.
Every pressure.
Every relative.
The kind of person that--
You only utter a phrase,
She then said a cuss
Because she can relate.
She understood.
The darkness of your minds.
The secrets you shared.
The forbidden things you did.
And being with her is just like having your home.
A haven you can run to.
To offer comfort.
To offer tranquility.
Then you never have to be alone again.
She loved you.
And you loved her.
But you can't be with her.
The restraint was within you.
Your principles.
Your dreams--
Well, your parents' dreams that had become yours.
You wanted to be wed,
Be a mother of five.
Not necessarily in an enormous parish.
A court will do.
With the judge-- who was your classmate on college.
You just wanted to be married.
You wanted to see your mother,
Painted crimson lips.
In her Cheshire cat grin.
In her new ivory terno.
With all her wrinkles showing.
You wanted to see your father,
Teary-eyed.
Sober yet proud.
You wanted to see your brother.
Busy yet composed.
You want those pretty niece,
Dressed in cute lacey gowns.
Hairs tied with colorful ponytails.
You want your nephews be in tiny checkered polo.
Tucked in.
Hairs made up.
In their micro sunglasses.
You wanted to see your cousins,
Piled by the banquet.
In their silk gowns.
Made up faces.
Curled hairs.
In heeled-shoes.
You wanted the sound of clanging utensils.
You wanted the bills on wedding gown,
And suit.
You wanted to open massive gift boxes.
It's not just the festivity.
It is what it symbolizes.
The unified clan.
The peaceful celebration.
All smiling.
Offering hands.
No one raises her nose
Because someone's a teacher.
Someone's a school principal.
Someone's a nurse.
Someone's an accountant.
Someone is someone's manager.
And someone's just a farmer.
Someone's just a DH.
Someone's just a housekeeper,
With two siblings on gradeschool and no father.
You wanted all of these on your wedding day,
And all those five baptism.
And all of those won't happen if you choose her.

Antares placidly fades
from the deep and high blanket,
He absconds from being one
of the many faces in the crowd.
He will be the brightest one,
But not on this sky, langga.
Not this one.

Dark and deep blanket embraces
flush-tainted, vast spread;
the transition is both breath-taking
and dangerous.
Inevitable change has come to him
but he's not afraid.
If anything, he's excited.

Your overwhelming orange smile
rises from the east.
Whooping, screaming,
greeting delight and passion;
waking up what's sleeping within
and fueling my dim ignition of hope.

I saw it in your eyes,
you wished the lights didn't die.
They should never depart
to shine, they should never forgot--
but they did.

I saw it in your eyes, once more.
You wished the waves to come ashore
again, and quench the thirst
brought by drought of April first--
but they never did, again.

I saw it in your eyes,
even you cloud them with lies.
For I promised to always see you
the day you replied, "And I you."
But you never did.

Past the vines of grins
and hopeful beams
lies the audacity
of discouragements,
assuring you
the existence of doubts.
Timeless records
will stop playing
at the back of her mind
as memories
immobilised with tears,
and fears,
and doubts.
She will despise you
as long as she loved you;
and will continue
to lie at your image.

They say,
'**** them
with kindness.'

Soon,
I
became
jaded.

think about how you changed the world
when you start strumming your guitar
or when you open your mouth to a melody
or when your fingers dance to black and white tiles
at least— my world

She deserted her life,
pulled from her young chest,
a view that even roses shied away;
with her blistered paleness
she granted you--

her heart
and soul.