'Cause we never talked past 2 a.m.
When words were deeper; and
Emotions truer.
Maybe it's because of who I am.
For I didn't know better; and
Afraid for my glasses to shatter.
It might be because of shame.
That left me on the end bitter; and
Life in a room so much darker.
I wish we are the same.
Afraid that we turned into waiter; and
Hoping we could make each other feel lighter.
I'd find comfort in that delusional game.
Pretending I'm more than a brother; and
You're a worthwhile partner.

Why do we dream of things that will never be?
Why do we pretend to see visions that will never be seen?
Why do we say we won't if we will?
Why do we tear up for spaces we can't fill?

It's how we say we don't feel,
How our peripheral vision roam,
Sad that it'll never be,
Remembered as past vision.

Somebody tell me how this'll be the last,
And I'll promise a life of bliss.
Aid me and save me from this seeming lust,
Just pull me back, I'm begging please.

Inside our house, there's a chamber of escape,
Across that room is the bag of sins.
It contains the element of earth and fire.
Each night I enter the chamber and allow water to surge.
I sit on the porcelain throne.
This room taught me how to bend air and escape.
I re-enter the house and look at the box of wonder,
And this box takes me to places.
Be warned for this will make you distant.
Such art messes with the mind.
Sometimes, a ride will be provided,
This is when I go to familiar places and bend some air outside.
For now I need these,

But I dream of a day when everything will cease to exist.

Faces and places, a fast past.
Picking among fickle options,
Fried in the prying cycle.

One, ja!
Two, jajaja!
Three, jajaja!

A pattern that has fatten,
A frustration in an endless production.
**** then pack.
**** then pack.
**** then pack.

Ja!
Jaja!
Jajaja!

Kailan kaya tititigil, hihinto, mawawala?
Ang mga Gabriela na ating nakikilala?
Isang ideya na kay hirap tapusin, kitilin, hawiin,
Nasa looban ay may markang nagdiin.

Nawa’y patuloy nga ating paglakas,
Nang sa susunod ay wala sa isip ang pagtakas,
Bagkus ay kapayapaan at kaliwanagan,
Ang pupuno nang higit sa kaisipan.

Kung malamig lamigin,
Kung mainit mainitan,
Basta sa susunod ay may kumot,
Pamaypay nang mahanganinan.

Magbabago rin pagkat mawawala ang mga Gabriela,
Paglahong walang pasabi ngunit may ganda,
Sa langit natin lahat ay natutuwa,
Nahanap na. Nahanap na.

I told myself that I'd be indifferent.
But you did it again -- your thing.
Mixed signals, I think, were sent,
Confused, now I'm thinking.

Dreamt of you that night,
I wish it were real, oh please.
I'd **** for another sight,
The fool that I am, myself I tease.

The courage that I get as I close my eyes,
Are waiting to be actualized.
Believe me, I am quite shy,
Give me a signal and I'd let it fly.

Regrets are, I guess, part of our lives.
No one can actually escape.
Dialectics may not really thrive,
But illusions of choices come in various shapes.
The only question that your mind feasts,
Which ones are you prepared,
That you know would hurt the least,
When you speak of which on your deathbed.

Jack of all trades,
Master of none.
Strong, loud voice,
Something! A must have one!
Courage? Yes.
How about fear?
No. None of that.
You are special!;
                yet,
Always the choice,
                but,
Never the option.
                ;

'Twas foolish of me to want more,
I knew that that was just what you wanted.
It has been a craving I'm looking for,
Everytime I see my pillow, my bed.

I wake up with this imagination,
That my arms are wrapped around you,
In this world, we have one vision,
To share something that goes through.

I remember how you took off your glasses,
Placed them on the desk and sat beside me.
We'd talk and go to our mind palaces,
Every detail, yes, we do see.

The way you moved the sheets,
The feel of your feet.
My skin against yours,
We're awake until four.

The first touch's innocence,
Those moments of awkwardness,
I enjoyed every minute of it,
They're something I wanna repeat.

But you feel otherwise.
Not for you, you think.
Last moments to see your eyes,
And imprison what I feel in every ink.

Now every waking moment is hell,
Knowing you won't be there.
No one can bother tell,
If this pain'll last forever.

I open my eyes and kiss my pillow,
Grab my sheets to feel warm,
The void within remains hollow,
Longing for you and your arms.

Did it hurt? When you realized the world owed you nothing?
That meritocracy is a myth and that doing good isn’t rewarded.
Does it sting? Waking up to a bad world order with no meaning,
Alive and breathing when you know you’re better off dead.

They would always say it’s our choices that define our little life,
In that case, maybe I chose wrong - all of it’s a mistake,
The joys are momentary but longer are the pain and strife,
One does his best to give for a world that only knows how to take.

I sometimes wonder if this examined life is actually better,
When knowing what you know only makes you suffer more.
Still trying to look for grace in the here and now where I hover,
When in reality, I just wanna find and cross an exit door.

For the past days, I've been talking to the moon.
I have asked her, "Oh dear, how soon?"
Free me from my chains, free me from my home,
Allow me again to wander, allow me to roam.

But the other end of the escape has been little scary,
Thinking about it just makes me worry.
Even the supposed sunrise I may meet,
Became a sunset blinding the ways of my feet.

The day I have feared has come,
No more place to call home, I'm done.
Both ends have become really thought prisons,
I see my end with the hue of crimson.

On your own, you think you are,
Your mind travels so, so far.
But you don't know which way to go,
Peace of mind, you're just begging so.

Every flip means death,
A burial you set yourself.
There's no escaping hatred,
Just smile, put on a show, and pretend.

And so, I've been told,
Why keep doing it?
Why keep saying these things?
But the problem is,
They created an idea,
High in a pedestal
You can't even reach.
Live with it.
Defend it.
No worries,
I cloak my anxiety --
With indifference and reserved chatter.

We project more than we care to admit,
We lie to ourselves to comfort our fragility.
But you and I can definitely see it,
That to those thoughts, we are guilty.

How does one unbecome?
When you need more than an escape,
You want some stability, but always on the run,
How to change the cycle? the shape?

The vessel shifts, but the essence remains,
The existence of the very idea, etched.
You'd think the 1059 is over; days you're insane,
But the count never stopped, even sketched.

The promise of a rebirth should be comforting,
But it's what's between the rise and fall that's unbearable.
And as we move on and continue walking,
We hope that someday, some things will be stable.

How different would it be?
If you had a person to call?
Wanting you not to sleep,
Til the moons fall.
Rovers exploring earth,
Contact that's ecstatic.
Warmth you'll get at birth,
Til fall your eyes mimic.

One day, this pillow will have a different name.
My dreams will cast a different face.
Yet for now, I know that this situation will remain the same.
Am just hoping for a faster pace.

I will be able to close my eyes and think of a new ‘you.’
Smell the morning and remember a more joyful view.
But for now, it’s your scent I recall,
And to your maze I fall.

Don’t get me wrong as I’ve done this before,
This isn’t new — no need for your sympathy.
Though I’m certain your thoughts wander other shores,
Not minding nor thinking about me.

How likely is it for two glances to see each other?
In a crowded space, in a sea of strangers?
You knew I was somehow familiar,
That's why I tried to make the conversation more real.

Then you approached with a formal greeting,
Which I warmed up in a moment I knew was fleeting.
Were you shaky or uneasy during that time?
Or do we just go and blame it all on the wine?

As orators, I understand the art.
I listened with the mind, a little guidance from the heart.
Hoping that I am not putting much thought into this,
Convincing thyself not to read through the passing bliss.

My brain is on overdrive metathinking,
Knowing that these thoughts don’t matter.
Still, let me share how that harmless phrase marked my being,
As you’ve pulled me back from a place of feeling better.

Now I see them again — the imperfections,
How something will always be missing from me.
How cold I will feel in seasons and situations,
Those weird quirks I wish would leave and let me be.

You have stolen hours of my bedtime,
In an age when rest is rare and richer when real.
Freed a dark thought from my mind,
That wanders around striking mountains of sad deals.

I was no longer fighting for anyone,
Yet you managed to remind me that I have lost.
I really thought that the worst me has long been gone,
Yet on the mirror I see myself as clear and as cold as a ghost.

Now his face appears in the darkness again,
As I drift back to the shadows of night.
Those words started another one of my heaviest rains,
One that takes time to see even just a flicker of light.

Regret and death are friends.
The first varies while the latter's constant.
They both approach you when it's the end,
Be sure the first's worth it, 'cause changing it, you can't.

Faces, faces, oh I've seen a lot of faces,
They come, they go, some stick, some shrink,
Daydreaming... asking what are the chances,
We'd bump anew and have our glasses clink.

Glad to know such feeling is still possible,
With nullity having been the default norm,
Still I think I remain visibly incapable,
Unsure what to do, ignorant how to perform.

Made me smile nonetheless, that face,
A warranted sight, a break for the monotony,
If that was it, all the same I got to gaze,
Hey, see you maybe, see you maybe.

You don't tell him he'll be alone.
He isn't afraid.
Remember when you had your Caffè Americano?
Stills without milk nor sugar.
That engagement ring?
Always silver without that shining.
He met a lot.
They had a lot.
But together,
Can stand alone.

What I told a her:
I like your company.
Let's still hang out.
Conversation with you is admirable.
I'll still text you in the middle of the night.
Your snaps are cute.
Replies from me will still be expected.
Our touch's ecstatic.
Will still randomly hold your hand.
We are friends.
We are still friends.

What a she told me:
What you said.

I had a lot on my mind,
But I only managed, "Your call."
She said, "Okay,"
But she wanted to say more.
You're both filled with words you didn't utter.
You were both mad deep within.

          He said, "What made you like me?"
          You responded, "I don't."
          You know you were lying,
          But you didn't do a thing.
          You parted ways and nothing started.

Why do we say the things we hate?
Why do we appear mad when we aren't?
Why do we sound furious when
We wished to be comforting?
Why did matter and manner go different lanes?

          We should escape this cycle
          And try to question ourselves.
          Why do we hurt each other,
          When love, as we know,
          Is our only way?

Thinking of you when I'm under the weather might not be the best course of action. For when I do so, I get a weird mix of joy, sadness, and confusion.
Everytime I hear the phone ring, knowing that it will be your voice on the other line; I want to feel that I am saved but I know I will not be fine.

While it is crystal to me that you are, indeed, looking for, whatever, I don't know; My first instinct is that your voice is some music I have to follow.
Thousand scenarios have occurred in my head where I finally confront and tell you that whatever this is has to end; Yet I have never actualized any, for at the moment, you are the only friend who would understand and have listened.

Every night I grab a pillow and pretend that it is you; Speaking to it and sharing imaginations 'til past two.
Immortalizing what has happened during those nights; Which to be honest were not walks in the park with bright lights.

To want and be wanted is what we, or perhaps I, desire. It's a human need that I believe is so dire.
For when lips lock, bodies touch, and breath shared; We make a world of our own where we know that we dared.

Yet our tied moments are loose and blurry; Cause I know that you are not into me as I am into your story. I have always felt that I am not the narrative you long to read; And that you just let me in to play for a pity-feed.

At this point, I would like to ask for your help, an intervention perhaps. Would you be so kind by being unkind and don't let this, for another time, relapse. Addiction can only be cured through good substitution and rehabilitation; So please cut the act as a psychedelic and save me from this spiral of hunger and frustration.

Set me free and I will be free; Take all the happiness and I'll have the rest gladly.
I just really want this to be over, to be done; For what you want me to be, I don't want to become.

Which would be of less guilt?
To understand and act on it?
Or to dumb down and follow it?

Understanding the error
Is a personal horror
That disturbs you to the core.

The emptiness that isn't new,
You left and let grew,
Feeds on and consumes the nothingness, too.

A tear that won't fall,
Pain that can stall,
Silence that shouts a call.

Like a man who smelled the smoke,
From a teenager inside the lift,
While he has quit several years ago,
He gave in.
And maybe we have to say what is true,
That, indeed, is impossible to believe,
Incredibly stupid and foolish but,
I am still in love with you.
Each new sight is a birth;
I give in.

Though the prequel might be notes,
This one deserves to be written.
Little changes in one’s post,
Wondering how to waltz from three to seven.

The valentine on Thursday,
Was, now is, but for how long?
Are we ready for what comes one day,
When we’ll listen and hear a new song.

The quirks and uncertainties are adorable,
Warmth, comfort, a sense of familiarity,
Bathing in dopamine of every world able,
Live ‘til we see and move in a different city.

You gave me a nickname,
And we held hands.
Laughed at jokes that were lame,
Suddenly, we're each other's fan.

Yet those short-lived daydreams,
Fainted and faded.
Is it what it seems?
Has it ended before it started?

I hope that it's all in my head,
I wish there's and 'it' to be there.
Can't fall for something that's already dead,
Universe, prove the world could be fair.

Every night I talk to the pillow,
Like how I used to before,
Its faces changes yet remains hollow,
The essence still holds its core.

Tomorrow I wait again,
Though tells myself that it is in vain.
I am, after all, just a friend,
To you, not a loss nor a gain.

We do crazy things to remind ourselves we're not insane.
Always a hit or a miss; Hoping this isn't in vain.
Done once, once twice; short stolen moments,
But why does it end up people looking for vents.

We do crazy things to forget we're alone.
Post here, tweet there, weird things you do with your mobile phone.
Always on the check just to see zero notification,
On your face, that same old blank expression.

We do crazy things to feel happiness.
While the ingenuity is a question of no less,
We immerse and enter the void more than we should,
Always in search, on the lookout for the truth.

We do crazy things to separate ourselves from what is false,
Lay bare, naked along our imagination's grand halls.
Being worshipped and worships, a god in the true sense of freedom,
Indeed, in those times, thy kingdom does come.

We do crazy things because we are crazy.
We pretend to be young, wild, and free.
But in reality, the only thing we would want to see,
Is some serenity, peace of mind, and clarity.

When I was five, I ate rice with raw egg.
Sit on the rusty, yellow and blue swing.
Play lego and compete for the king,
Ride and reach home before lunch's eaten.

Seven to twelve were kinda tough,
Series of confusions, choices, and circles.
But you managed to pull through,
Since you're sure what's ahead of you.

Thirteen to sixteen you'll meet her,
And the world becomes really colorful.
But blends aren't always that beautiful,
Might end up red or worse some blue.

Seventeen to twenty you shape up,
Let it all in for the last hurrah.
You'll go out to be different,
From now, things will be uncertain.

Twenty-one and I'm still figuring it out,
But that's okay what I hear people shout,
I am desperate as hell,
I need some new normal.

We are afraid because it happens very seldom.
Like a train of thought you wanted to write
But suddenly slipped right before your mind.
Thinking that it will not leave your sight
Yet you are uncertain where to look for this rare find.

We are afraid for it might be the last.
Like the remaining pages of a chapter in a book
With characters to whom you were truly hooked.
Waited and waited for a sequel that would not come,
Build up, for you, dear friend, there will be none.

We are afraid that's why we give it all.
As if it was the last poem you will ever write,
Even though knowing that your thought process is an endless river,
Flowing and fighting with all of its mastery and might,
That in one piece you were wishing you are a character in someone's sonder.

We are afraid yet we hope it would for different reasons.
That it will be uncertainties out of unspeakable beauty and bravery,
In a time when there's an us to contemplate and conjure thoughts if we are real and ready.
That fear itself befriends you and becomes your help,
For fear is personified as someone familiar who is no more than the self.

It started as a counterfactual,
A means to test a personal theory of change,
Assessed which thoughts had the turn to be vocal,
Decided to give space for the ones on the positive range.

One must learn how to drench oneself in the sea of light,
Just how one dives in the depth of darkness.
One must acknowledge that warmth is possible,
In the same way that cold is inevitable.

How to sustain is a problem for another day,
What’s vital is to live where we are, when we are.
Let the the twists of the many plots roll and play,
Yes, we are near; and yes, we are far!

We learn who we are by knowing who we are not,
We try, we risk, we take a chance,
We may not have the others’ lot,
We still have some rhythm for our personal dance.

Unload yourself with the romanticized fiction,
Listen to the voices that truly matter.
Focus on a worthwhile direction,
Surprise yourself as you go farther and further.

Disappointments, aren't we all?
A few rise less than all our fall.
To him,
To her,
To them,
To everybody!

But they all are to you as well!
This life we call is a mere circle.
He hurts you,
She hurts you,
They hurt you,
You hurt you.

The fundamental problem is that we learned how to be silent.
We knew and we have chosen to be really quiet.
Everyone thinks that it is the best course of action,
Living in a wold of delusions where inaction is solution.

We say the problem is that we understand,
Or do we just complicate simple matters to make wisdom our brand?
The constant ideas of 'I', them, it, this, and Other,
Would've and could've but didn't make things better.

How sure are we that there is an end?
What certainties do we have for us to know this will mend?
We stare at darkness almost a third of the day,
Perhaps, nothingness and emptiness is our only known way.

I fear the day that I start learning,
As knowing will eventually make me stop caring.
Well I am afraid I have no choices,
I just have to play and jump through the phases.

While nothing is wrong with changing,
I don't want to lose the sense of my being.
We hope we turn out better,
So we have something good saved for later.

Out of sight, out of mind,
May some peace we eventually find.
We seek hoping we're sought,
At least we'd say we fought.

What gives out authenticity
Leaning towards unfiltered reality?
Tell me how can I see
That I and they say is the real me?

A being governed by time
A soul separated from the divine
Annointed keeper of the self
Posturing as the impression of depth.

Indifferent towards the apparent terminus
Compact strides with the daily onus
Drifting on interim spaces
Figuring out the rest of the ages.

The ******* dog visits again,
Preventing you from sleeping.
Now, it makes you insane,
Knowing you're a thinking thing.

It shows you how much space you have,
Beside the wide bed where you lie.
How cynicism towards love,
Left you high and dry.

You think of your past attempts,
Which failed for they were pretends.
You realize how you're mind is bent,
Confusing signals, it sends.

Now, you see a face in your mind,
Who'll probably just wither and die.
When will you ever find,
Someone, on your shoulder, who shall lie?

When the time calls for it, we go.
To a place where islands become lakes,
Oceans turn to plains.
Hills transform to seas,
And bodies that surround us change to ranges that divide us.
It is not an upside down but a twisted reality.
Narratives stays but the characters alter.
For how long shall we sing this epic?
'Til when shall we speak of these stories?
To Time that provides for existence,
We're hopeful we could show true life's essence.

I would like to believe that someday I will find my way home.
A place, no, a feeling that I can emphatize with wholeheartedly.
Somewhere where my skin fits perfectly free to roam,
Where tears that stream down would end abruptly.
A man is free to dream to be with whom he wants to be,
Perhaps in heavens of whispers on secret room escapades,
Or on the free road with festive decors that lets an unending flow of glee,
Bursts of joy that would make someone hopeless feel saved.
The waves of the oceans of uncertainties will be crashed,
By the roots and foundation of courage and liberty,
The winds of shame will be hushed,
It is time for the well of hatred, imprisonment, and drama to feel thirsty.
All in good time will we reach the moon ever evasive,
We aren't fools who won't stand true to what we desire.
We are what we are - purposive.
We are everything except people who tire.

The task is to make you feel how I miss you beyond the three words.
I'm lost as to how to do that.
Perhaps let me just describe the things I yearn.
The uneasy lips that are either inexperienced or apprehensive.
The sudden pull of your arms when I am about to let go.
Those eyes seeing through me as you gaze silently.
The warmth of your body as it glides through my mortal secrecies.
The way you pronounce my name.
Your arms around me like the world could care less.
Your feet talking to my feet in language they only understand.
The sound of your breath -- a mixture of exhaustion and ecstasy.
The care, the cuddle, the comfort.

Though I might be romanticizing.

All I wanted to say is that I miss you.

Safe to assume there're infinite number of lines,
Although illogical, 'twas the conclusion of that time.
Then I fool myself,
Or was I accepting the Truth,
Validating past instances,
that
This's just another phase.

Were you led?
You're unsure.
One thing's certain,
You tried.
You said,
'Might capture,'
Then again,
Kinda denied.
Can't comprehend,
Thoughts're pure.
Sorta friend,
Hope wanna fight.
Mixed ends,
Mental torture,
Friend or fiend?
Light or night?

Of all the liberties I have,
There's three I wanna add.
Want them binding, tied.

To look for you,
To look at other,
To look at the both of us.

To think of the riddle,
To think unhealthy,
To think dying?

To be sad.
To be mad.
To be afraid.

To Miss,
To Be Jealous,
To Worry.

Then you say,
"I wanna be happy;
I'm ready to be."
Then you try.
Heart beats faster,
Mind trying to cancel out games.
Walking through broken glass,
Carefully,
Still trying not to make a sound,
Tiptoeing.
You'ren't sure,
You don't care.
'Cause now,
"You want to be happy;
You're ready to be."

It was black and white,
From yesterday, the same sight.
Those piercing eyes,
That genuine smile.

Is it a possibility?
Or even a close probability?
Will we bump?
For a while, we'll stop.

I don't even know,
If I'd still let this flow.
I know I want to continue,
But the source drops few.

So it was done,
To the scarlet universe we’ve seen.
With a few only have been,
Cementing it before it’s gone.

The patience was noted,
The sight was magnificent,
The reality we just bent,
The fusion that deserves to be applauded.

Now what ought to do?
To warp to such beauty again?
Still gotta visit that special den,
To be light, to be pure, to be true.

I saw his eyes.
Dark and mad.
Then a glimpse of you.
With your awkward smile.
If I want,
I can
But,
Would I?
One thing is certain,
You taught me,
That maybe,
Indeed,
it
Is a process.

And when everyone's gone,
All lights are out,
You close your eyes,
And the overthinking starts.
You wish it'll be done,
All you want to do is shout,
Amidst the deafening silence you realize,
The emptiness still hurts, halts.

And so the 1059
days
that. ended.
Woke you up
Intertwined,
Kissing your pillow.
Shall it
.
v
...
?

It's bizarre how you can hear yourself even when you're not speaking,
Amidst the calming breeze of rain and busy rush of the streets.
There are nights when you can choose to color your world and narrate an epic through free hand poetry.
The shape is indefinite but the words flow.
The hues are fading yet they meet halfway.
You throw the why's in your brain even if you know the answers.
Is there a reason for lives that were touched?
"There is," we convince ourselves.
The sense waits.
The song must start anew.

And so it happened.
Yup. Will never be that.
Weird voices.
Familiar yet strange.
This never happened.