I remember sitting with my legs crossed
at an empty parking lot with you.
Burning our lungs,
sharing our deepest secrets at 3am
while I rest my head
on your shoulder that cold summer night.
I sang along our favorite songs
and you wished that time stopped
so we could still be together.

But alas,

You are still too damaged.
You think too much.
You are too practical.
You are not yet ready for anything.

And I’m left confused
and angry
and frustrated
and a little bit hurt, I guess.

So here we are again,
so here we go again.

Who would have thought
that we would actually
burn even faster
than our cigarettes?

                                                    ­                        
 — apbq

There are pauses in between musical notes and stops between an artist's strokes and periods in between a writer's sentences. We have come to an end. We have come to a stop. But sometimes the only way to continue is to halt. The only way to begin is to end.

- apbq, pauses and stops

Early on, you already knew
That for me, this is the worst way
To lose a person –
Clueless, oblivious,
Unaware.

Hey, don't go disappearing. ​
You swore you wouldn't.
But you left without a warning,
Just like everyone else
who didn't have the guts to explain.

Are we over?
You've been missing for days now.
I'm going to walk away.
Enough, I tell myself.
Enough, I repeat it all over again.

I'm no longer nurturing the flame.
It will take a single breath to blow it out.
I'm leaving.
I'm going.
After this, I'll be gone.

Hey, this is goodbye.
I guess.

where did i lose my warmth?
at which place had i turned my switch?

in starbucks? secondhand bookstores?
was it in the local bar or the liquor store?
in houses i crashed, couches i spent the night on
or of dorm rooms i slept at and sheets i found comfortable?

to what girl had i offered it in lieu of the rush?

had i made the trade with the girl
who dragged me through unlit streetlights
as she had her lips perched on mine,
opened my heart with intensity that made her tremble
and eventually turned me into a massive mess.
was it her? i was always too drunk to recall.

or perhaps i gave it away, little by little
to the bartender in a black shirt
with a walrus at the back,
and his sadness was seen in his eyes every night.
we never really spoke.
i ask for shots, he gives them to me.
but he understood. i know he always did.
he looks at me in a way.
all fuckups know why we do the things we do
was it with him?

or was it the cigarette lady
from where i lit my first menthol stick
and swallowed the cough
that i really wanted to release?

maybe it goes farther back

had i lost my warmth in words?
in unsent text messages?
literature? poetry? essays? prose?
metaphors – not at all.

i lost it when i was eight
when i knew about my father's infidelity
when i felt my first rejection
when i felt so unwanted
when my heart broke for my mom
there, in that very dark room had i lost it all.

but the better question should be:
was it ever there?

I made a home out of you
but little did I know,
I was just your temporary shelter.

Now that the hurricane has passed
  - the hurricane of us
the strong winds departed
and so did you.

You left.
Now, I am homeless.


— apbq

Truth is, I am your five minute cigarette break. I’m your scotch on the rocks at 10am, and the bottle of wine after a long day at work. I’m everything I don’t want to be, yet everything you want. You can put me out after lighting me up, throw me out once I lose my flavor and empty me out like a bottle of wine. You don’t do it because you can, you can because I let you.

She told me she loves me,
like how the sea remains,
even if the shore shoves it away.
On the day she left,
I thought of the words she said.
I shouldn't have felt secured then,
for she compared her love for me,
to the shallowest part of the sea.
She did not love me deeply.

I opened the old iPhone I had two years ago and I stumbled upon notes I wrote for her. It happened too long ago which is why I don’t remember if I ever sent any of it.

Reading through them, I remembered how it felt like but not entirely. It’s like knowing how something tastes in your mouth without having the actual thing on your tongue. Looking back, there are parts of me that have not changed. I still believe in changing my ways for that one person, going beyond my threshold in spite of the voices telling me to run away. And still, I also believe in letting go when I know I’m not the person who would make you realize you are better than the ******* you portray yourself to be.

Not too long ago, a friend asked me how I was when I fell in love for the first time. I told her I’m not sure if it really was love that I felt back then. But reading through these notes again, I guess it really was love.

And there it is again; the taste of it without having the very thing. I might have forgotten how it was to be in love. But I have also forgotten how real the pain was. Reading the notes through the voice in my head, I could hear myself breaking. My insides churned, but the sensation didn’t feel complete. So I guess this is how it’s like to remember love that’s no longer there.

my heart breaks a little
knowing that one day,
we'll be miles apart.

my heart breaks a little
thinking about the fact
that we'll have to battle distance.

my heart breaks a little
considering that someday,
we'll be in different timezones.

my heart breaks a little,
but as i realize how blessed i am
to love someone like you,
my heart starts to break a little less.

my heart breaks a little.
my heart breaks a little less.
my heart will always yearn for you
and i'll certainly wait 'til i get to hold you again.

i. you never ceased to begin and end your day by saying “i love you.” it’s the little things matter. it’s the little things that make my day complete.

ii. i know nothing with certainty about most things, but with you i am more than certain. with you, i’m entirely sure. i hope you are too.

iii. let me be your cigarette so i could touch your lips.

iv. i have tired eyes and a tired mind from running away from my demons all day. you know exactly how to calm me down. perhaps you and only you can help me feel at ease. thank you for slaying my demons for me.

v. i feel the sting of the sun. the moon has set. i sacrificed sleep just so i can spend more time with you. i want more hours with you.

vi. i’m fighting off sleep yet again just so i can hear your voice on the phone. sing for me, my love.

vii. i have never felt safe anywhere in this world, until i felt your embrace. your arms feel like home.

viii. you made me listen to a new song today. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful.

ix. as the band sang on stage, you held my hand. you looked at me while you sang the sweetest line from the song. in that moment, i felt like i’m the luckiest girl in the crowd.

x. for the longest time, i’ve been afraid of heights. “you can do it! close your eyes and jump,” you told me. my hands were trembling. my legs were shaking. i was barely breathing. i took a leap of faith and jumped, knowing that you were there at the bottom waiting there for me. not even my deepest and darkest fear can stop me. you make me fearless.

xi. i only have the silver moonlight in me but you wouldn’t even dare trade the brightest star, the glow of the sun, with the light gleam that i have. you make me feel like i can outshine anyone. “lumiere, darling, you’re beautiful” you said.

xii. i was cold and you gave me your jacket. i saw you shiver while you handed it to me. i knew in that moment that you would sacrifice everything for me. i love you.

xiii. how i wish you would defend me when someone talks **** about me. i feel betrayed. you know me better than they do. don’t do it again, i beg you.

xiv. i’d open the door for you again and again. that’s what scares me.

xv. when we spent time apart, i asked myself, how can emptiness feel so heavy?

xvi. we were talking about our future, and i’ve never wanted to fight for something so much in my life.

xvii. someone stole my color and threw it to the wind. i don’t know if i will still find it, but you still looked at me like i’m the brightest rainbow.

xviii. you said you are afraid to lose me. i am hoping that you wouldn’t have the strength to face your fear and leave. not now, not ever.

Let me tell you,
I didn't relentlessly tell you
about my scars and wounds
so you could just
cut them wide open.

Let me tell you,
I expected you to help me,
to heal me, to hold me
but you just reawakened
my pain.

– apbq, not everyone deserves second chances

There are people you miss
and you let them know.
There are people you miss
but they can’t and shouldn't know.

maybe we didn't really fall out of love.
maybe we just refused to give each other up.
or perhaps you were to blame,
for you stopped choosing "us" when that day came.
i know i didn't.

― apbq, when i used to say 'always' i meant it

Maybe there is a universe where you do not break my heart. Maybe there is a universe where you didn't leave me feeling awful, feeling terrible. Maybe there is a universe where I didn't believe that I am hard to love, that I'm undeserving of love.

But maybe, just maybe, there is also a universe where someone will love me anyway. There is a universe where someone will see that my anxiety is not my entirety. There is a universe where someone will accept every bit of me. And wouldn't it be nice, if that universe is where we are at the moment. Maybe, maybe.

—apbq

With a heavy heart and a sinking feeling, I slowly realized that we would never have worked out, that we weren't good for each other. I wanted what she couldn't give me and she needed something that I didn't have – something she got used to, something she's familiar with. We lived in perhaps separate universes, and it was only through some mistake, some unfortunate collision we both shared that we had met and fallen in love – if it was even real love.

I knew what I saw in her and how I felt and somehow, despite my instinct that it would all end in tears and heartbreak, made me dive completely in, made me offer all my love and made me irrevocably careless. I knew. I had known. But that did not stop me.

If you knew her, you couldn't blame me.

She puts the cigarette between her lips
and I imagine myself in it's place.
She smiles and I see
the sparkle in her eyes that I live for.

My mind becomes cloudy
as she blows smoke from her mouth.
"Smoking is bad for you."
I say, looking over her.

"So am I."
I say, before she turns away.

you are
the cold December breeze
on a warm April summer.

you are
the random, surprise present
on an ordinary, uneventful day.

you are
the risen moon even if the sun
is still there, in broad daylight.

what i'm trying to say is that
you are unexpected, unforeseen.
you caught me off guard,
but you make me happy anyway.

maybe.
maybe if we kept wishing on
ordinary, tiny stars every night
instead of waiting for
majestic, shooting stars,
our wishes could've come true by now.

maybe.
maybe if we just looked closer
and paid more attention
to the people around us,
we wouldn't have fallen for
the wrong one.

perhaps, maybe,
maybe, just maybe.
maybe, we could've been
if we wished on ordinary, tiny stars
and if we looked closer from the start.
maybe.

even a bee,
forgets and leaves,
even the most beautiful flower,
once it extracts
everything
from it.

I was still young when my dad told me that my grandmother had Alzeihmer's Disease. I could not fathom how it was possible to forget everything - the people you dearly love, the most breathtaking place in the world where you seek refuge, everything you've learned, and memories you've made along the way.

I could not understand how she could not remember. I wondered how she was feeling. How does it feel like to forget? I wondered if it scared the hell out of her or if she felt a sense of relief in unremembering.

We came to see her. As expected, she did not know who I was - not even my father, his own son, her favorite one among eight. It was painful because after everything, she had forgetten me. I just stood there - unrecognized. I looked at her, agonized. That was the day I learned how heartbreaking it was - to look at the eyes of someone you love and realize that you're just a mere stranger to them.

My grandmother looked away. Her eyes caught my grandfather's eyes. She stared at him. It took her a long time, but she was able to utter his name. She smiled. That was also the day I learned that perhaps your mind can forget, but your heart cannot. Your heart can and will always remember.

I always feared that the stars didn't align for us
but still words flowed between us,
letters floating through cyber space,
tinged with unspoken love.
Love we half-acknowledged.
Love that wouldn't be.

I have found words scribbled in books,
words that made me feel the most alive,
words that have understood me completely,
words that have clutched me to safety,
more than anyone has ever done in this lifetime.

"Don't touch that. You'll get hurt" my mom exclaimed as I was playing with candles on the first of November.

As a child, I was always fascinated with fire. Who wouldn't? A fire starts with just a flicker, just a tiny hot spark which ignites a flame. It shifts its colors from oranges and reds to blues and purples. I could spend hours watching how it dances, how it moves - always so gentle and soothing. It gave me comfort and warmth.

I never understood why I was forbidden to touch it, but it never scared me. I was told that it could cause pain, but I still continued to touch even the warmest, flaming fires. I got hurt in the process.

When I turned fifteen, I fell in love with a girl. I felt a spark. We ignited, unexpectedly blazed. Just like the fire, she gave me comfort and warmth. Just like the fire, she lights up and glistens even in the dark. "Be very careful" I was told. "You wouldn't want to get hurt again."

But even the warmest fires can turn cool down. Even the brightest fires can be extinguished. Even the blazing flames can turn into smoldering embers. Maybe that's why I was told not to touch anything on fire. It was a lot like love. Even if it brings warmth, too much of it can burn you. Even if it brings comfort, too much if it can hurt you.

Fire can die out.
Love can die out.

Maybe I should have listened. Maybe forbidding me from fire is my mother's way of teaching me about how love burns.

i could imagine you
filling the empty spaces
– on vacant cafe chairs,
the space on my bed,
even on my passenger seat.
and it hit me,
having you around
even in altered realities
makes everything else
seem so comforting.
perhaps you're my ****** pill.

and the scariest thing about having
all these late night thoughts
is the possibility of them all being true.

looking down
from the top of the world's tallest building
doesn't seem so scary
when you aren't afraid to fall.

i’ve spent countless nights with you,
getting to know you —  even the messiest parts of you,
over a cup of coffee or a bottle of beer.
amidst having a list of maybe’s,
perhaps i should give this a try, i whispered.

when i realized how i wanted you,
you decided to run away.
only you have taught me how silence,
deafening silence,
can seem so loud.

you left and came back
and then left again.
while you were away, i began to understand
why we can never be together,
even if we like(d) each other.

either it was your indecisive mind,
or maybe it was how loneliness,
absolute loneliness,
can make us run into arms of people
we know we should not choose to be with.

i was not the right one for you.
perhaps, i was not enough for you.
but you were right and enough for me.
i chose you but you weren't strong enough,
to choose me — that's why we ended.

                                                       ­                       
— apbq

You have knocked on the high walls
I've built for myself.
I let you in, believing that maybe
you found something about me,
that would make you stay.

I disregarded my walls for you,
but I shouldn't have.
I learned my lesson the hard way -
I should never break down for people
who wouldn't even try to climb them.

When you told me that you love me
I knew
I knew,
I would love you for a long time
and the entirety of you would leave a mark
in all corners of my heart,
in all corners of my mind.

Perhaps, time was never be on our side.
Perhaps, the universe played us too many times.
Perhaps, we tried too much or we didn't.
But I'll never forget when you said "I love you"
I knew,
I knew,
You're going to be a big heartache.

– apbq, i knew, i knew, but that didn't stop me from loving you.

everyday, a little piece of the broken me,
somehow puts itself back together when i write.
but when the silence of the night comes,  
all my emotions scatter around,
i find you once again
with all the sublime memories we had.
i fall apart all over again.

i have swollen, light rose eyes
because of the sea of tears  
rushing down my face.

one wave for love,
one wave for fake friendships,
one wave for my family,
and another for myself.

there is a reason
for my courage.
there is a reason
for my mess.

i let it all out,
that one night.
but oh, how come i didn't stay afloat?

i felt like i was drowning.
i'm still drowning.

watch what she photographs.
not in digital, but in film.
where the shots are limited,
where the photographs are quite unexpected,
where she takes the picture carefully,
because she's worried that it would be blurry.

thirty-six decisions, thirty-six shutters.
watch what she spends her film for.
preserving conversations,
preserving memories,
preserving sensations,
all shared with you.

perhaps she wants to keep,
not just photographs but fragments of you.
through capturing photographs,
between flares and grains,
or even negatives and shadows,
she has thirty-six memories all kept in a roll.

someday,
my eyes will forget
how to search for you.
my ears will forget
how to listen to you.
my lips will quit
craving for yours.
and my hands
will no longer reach for you.

I was giving you an ocean,
but you were holding a cup.
Maybe I loved you
more than you wanted to be loved.

I peel my lips until there’s blood on my fingertips
Bite my inner cheeks ‘til I taste rust on my tongue
Rip the skin off the corners of my nails
And do things to amplify the pain

I stare at the sun until I’m blinded by its brightness
Hold my breath until claws split my mouth open
Punch walls until my hands are too frail to move
But I do nothing to heal

I fall too easily for those who never notice
I care too much for those who never looked my way
I try so hard to fix myself every time I fall
But end up being sliced by yet another force

I torture myself by paying attention
To those who gave me heartbreaks
I can’t seem to rid myself of stupidity
I can’t seem to rid myself of weaknesses

Who says you need others to break
When your will is enough to destroy your soul
Who says you need others to bleed
When everything you are is enough to cut you open

I listened to you talk about the person you used to love.
You didn't describe her like rainbows and butterflies.
You made it seem like she was all chaos and hurricanes.
Yet in the end, you still chose to be with her.

― apbq,  so what made you change your mind?

Perhaps no one knows
how tough life has been for me lately,
and how close I am from giving up.

But when I hear you laugh,
life goes from tough to the easiest thing
and you keep me going somehow.

if you are looking
for constellations and cosmos
in her eyes,
you are
at the wrong door.
she's half a hurricane
and half a rainstorm.
she isn't beauty.
she's captured
vividness
in human skin.

there is congruence and harmony
in the meaning behind your name
and the time when you waltzed in my life.
i discovered that today.

it was during my lowest of lows,
and darkest of darks,
seemingly devastated by a storm,
when you came along.

your name means rainbow in greek.
perhaps you live out and uphold its meaning.
for you gave back the missing colors,
in my once pitch-black world.

she gave you a wave,
but you're worth
all the oceans in the world.

she gave you a seed,
but youre worth
gardens and gardens of flowers.

imagine how
you were deeply happy with portions.
well i am here, willing to give you completion.

perhaps the worst thing to realize,
is that you still prefer parts of her,
than the entirety of me.

And there was I on bended knees,
asking God to grant that one wish,
that wish that I've been yearning for.
As I end my prayer, I find myself
asking Him how you've been.

And there was I on bended knees,
still asking Him to guide you,
still slipping little prayers for you.
I hope you're happy.
I hope your wishes come true.

I hope you'll be loved by someone,
who gives you love so deep like the ocean
and so much that it flows like a river out of you.
And I hope she'll never leave you feeling empty,
like how I felt when you left me.

"You don't care about me anymore," she said.
That hit me hard, because I still cared about you.
- in my own convoluted, messy way.
But I cared about myself more,
that's why I made you think,
that I couldn’t care less about you.

she has a long list
of words
of feelings
of thoughts
that she wishes to tell you

and so she opened a book
and let those words
speak the words
that she was not brave enough
to utter

                                                          ­                  
—  apbq

I'm the kind of person
who loves to
look at the stars at night.
I feel comfortable
as I'm staring at the beautiful dark,
not knowing if there's anything
gazing at me too.

I guess that's why
I fell in love with you.
I always see the beauty
in everything you do,
even if I didn't know
about the darkness inside of you.
I love you even in the dark,
not knowing what's hidden within.

And I'm embracing everything,
even your pitch-black darkness.
Because the moon and the stars
won't shine as bright in daylight.
I want to waltz with your darkness,
even if I'm afraid of the dark.
Tell me, darling, will you do this for me too?