I already know the answer.
So what if I have been thinking about you still? What about it?
What if I have been imagining how good your kiss must feel? What of it?
So what if I have been dreaming about what could have been? What is it to you?
What if you were here right now because you want to tell me something? What is it?
I know the answer.
I know it as I would know my own letters.

So what if I have been thinking about your touch, but this time, in places nobody knows where? Oh well, now neither do you.
So what?
So what if I have been imagining doing things with you, sort of things that you can now only imagine and think about too?
Now what?
So what if I am still here, writing poems?
So what if I am hiding, like Texas hold ‘em?
But I understand.
Like I do the lines on the back of my hand.

And so what if I have been daydreaming of sitting on a field on a sunny day with you?
So what if I’m imagining you taking my sundress off, like tearing petals down?
What about it?
So what if I imagine us having cute picnics and then making a mess of the picnic mat every single time, like it’s a routine?
So what?
So what if I think about these kind of things when you clearly don’t want them or don’t want anything at all, what pain it brings!
So what is it to you?!
Well, no problem, I heard.
Loud and clear as the chirps of the birds.

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant...

But I will never let you fall.
Rewriting an age-old story,
in fact, I’ll take the fall... I’d even crawl.
And by me, you’ll never be betrayed.
Carving a new rib from my body,
our story won't be one of gray and strays.

I’ll take the fall.
You’ll never be blue.
God can rue me and curse me!

But I will never fail you.
Come closer, take a bite,
you’ll see heaven is true.
And no, you will 𝘯𝘰𝘵 certainly die.
For God may be absolute, yet he lies;
my love for you will always be kind.

For all eternity I will crawl.
You’ll never be hungry with all my fruits.
History, make a villain and fool out of me!

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant.
“𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥”,
then call me God of the blind.

We observe. We listen. We watch.
If we, too, will be observed back.
We crucify. We criticize. We ostracize.
Before we, too, will be crucified.
And we read each other
as if our faces are some pages.
And we judge each other
as if our phases are just cases.
But people are not books.
We cannot read each other,
our stories changes and hooks
with every passing hinge and look.
I’d rather we write of each other
as if we are all authors of no horrors.
I’d rather we pen one another,
as if everyone is their own poet and writers.
Because people are poems.
Because we are poetry in flesh.
Because people are problems.
And people are also the solutions.

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦

There once was a goddess made of gold
Sought by many but only a few can behold

Her beauty the most coveted of all,
An object of desire that is universal

With her golden sight,
She goes deeper than what meets the eye.
With her golden smile,
She radiates her warmth like a summer sky.
With her golden hands,
She unravels tangled heart strands.

But only those
brave enough to delve deep,
and forge their path through shadows steep

Those who dare to see, the courage in her misery
The ones who can feel her soul's mystery,
Can be blessed by the Golden Goddess,
and find the treasure, rare and true—her golden heart.

Oh, what grace it is.
To be Loved by the Lady with the goLden hue.

When I am out and about with my friends,
I am the best lover.
When I am alone and sitting in the dark,
I try to be a stardust.
Whenever I feel happy and content,
I am a little girl.
Whenever I feel down and worried,
I am an old woman.
Whenever I want something,
I am a *****.
Whenever something’s after me,
I am a witch.
Whenever I am free and light,
I am actually sad inside.
Whenever I look frail and in fright,
I actually need someone by my side.
When I am walking at night in the city,
I am guarded.
When I am in the confines of my room,
I am discarded.
When I am sitting in a cafe,
I am the sugar that I didn’t ask for.
When I am stirring my chocolate at home,
I am the salt I mistakenly sprinkled over.
Because I have always been alone,
I am a cold mountain.
But when I felt your touch,
I am but a flower.
Because all I heard are my own cries,
I am a sharp, hot rock.
But when I heard the sound of your voice,
I am but tiny petals under the sun.

Minsan may maririnig kang
mga tunog o hiyaw,
na mapapatanong ka;
“pusa ba ‘yon o bata?”
Minsan may makikita kang
dalawang taong magkasama,
na magtataka ka;
“mag-ama ba ‘yon o mag-jowa?”
At kung minsan din may madarama kang
mapapatigil ka na lang
at mapapatulala sa tuwina;
“pag-ibig na ba ‘to o pagkakaibigan lang?”

Ngunit sa lahat ng mga tanong na ito,
sa ingay ng mga tunog,
sa dilim ng pagtataka,
sa gitna ng tahimik na mga hiyaw,
sa liwanag ng pagtulala,
sa nakakabinging nadarama...
Ano bang pagkakaiba?
ano bang pagkakaiba?
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mapapakinggan.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay maaaring makita.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mararamdaman.
Ano nga bang pagkakaiba?

Kapag niyaya kitang lumabas ulit,
this time, I don't know, maybe sa zoo?
Kahit sumakay lang tayo sa jeep,
next time na lang sa Maynila or museum?
Sasama ka ba?
Kung sa bagay, ayaw ko pa ring magka... alam mo ba?

Pagkatapos, kakain tayo sa labas. Na naman.
Baka ikuwento ko na rin ang nakaraan,
'yun ay kung nais mo lamang malaman.
Dahil yung sa'yo, jusmiyo, alam ko na rin naman.
At ayokong maging unfair, parang kanin na walang ulam.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

And did you say she was pretty?
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don't wanna know!
And can you tell me, was it worth it?
Really... I don't wanna know.

Naaaliw ka ba sa'kin? Tawa ka kasi nang tawa.
Pero kung yayayain ulit kita, maybe sa zoo,
sana ay bigyan mo naman ako ng awa.

Ngunit kung sasabihin kong "wag mo kong iwan",
ngunit gusto mo palang mapag-isa,
ok lang sa akin. Uuwi na lang at magsi-siesta.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Ako, hindi pa naman.
Hindi ko pa alam. (4x)

Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or perhaps maybe baka ito na yata ang last na tula?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or maybe hihintayin na lang, parang iyong mga kanta?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or baka we're meant to be friends lang talaga?

Anyway, I'll follow you down 'til the sound
of my voice will haunt you.

Anyway, this is "Wonderwall".

Anyway,
please ***** pa rin tayo sa zoo.
Sa zoo (6x)