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To lay in bed, but feel its weight press down on you,
To cry out loud, but feel hands gripped tightly around each word,
To lie wide awake, but feel the darkness swarm over you,
To stretch your hands out, but feel your spirit struck down by ropes that bind,
And to run, but come back to nothing but lies.

O, solider, stop fighting empty wars!
The battle has been won,
Love has overcome.

Let freedom echo out,
Let the trumpets sound out loud,
The Lord rejoices over you!

The spirals are split,
And so have you found the way
To everlasting peace.

O, weary heart,
you are redeemed!

And onto this I hold—
The Love that pulls me close,
The Love louder than storms,
The Love so alive,
The Love infinitely outstretched,
The Love that keeps coming back to us.
 Apr 2015 Bianca Custodio
eyes are like constellations; unless you know what you are looking for and looking at, they are just eyes
Summer, Day 1.
Do you know how much I love you?
One day you will.
One day you will.
I haven't even seen you yet,
but I am so in love with you.

When the time comes for us to finally be together, I will drive us somewhere outside this concrete jungle to ask you that. Then I will tell you to look at the stars, and you will try to count them, even if you already know that not enough stars were created to compare it to.

Darling, I dance and I sing and I shake in delight at the thought of being with you. I'm a morning person now, because I know that every waking moment is one day closer to forever.

Summer, Day 2.
I have sworn to save every part of this heart for you. I've loved before, but not like this. Not like this. My stone-heart now made flesh beats as if I'd just been born, as if I'd been made to love and to be loved by you.

Summer, Day 3.
I can't believe you chose me. I can't believe I'm going to get to marry you. We've got quite a long way to go, but I'm already preparing, making sure my dress will be as white as snow, every hair in place, this heart pure and this body untouched until the day I put my hand in yours. I can't wait to see your face when I walk down the aisle. I promise to be the perfect bride, your perfect bride.

Fall, Day 1.
I might not write as much as I did during the summer. Life has been getting busier and busier, but I want you to know that I still love you as much as I did from the first day.

Fall, Day 46.
I've been spending quite a bit of time with someone. He's clever and says the most interesting things. I feel like we will never run out of words to say to one another. We talk everyday, and the funny thing is sometimes I feel my day isn't complete yet if we haven't spoken. Don't worry, my heart is still yours. Just thought I'd let you know.

Fall, Day 52.
I think I love him, but just a little bit. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut an inch off of my heart to give to him. It's just an inch less. Surely you won't mind.

Fall, Day 80.
He's been with someone else this entire time. It's a good thing I gave him only an inch of my heart, but the rest is bruised. Don't worry, darling, I'll have it fixed in time.

Fall, Day 100.
It's still beating, but barely. Maybe I should love a little again. Maybe some warmth will do this heart good.

Winter, Day 15.
I think... I gave a little too much.

Winter, Day 50.
My latest disaster said my heart was something worth waiting for. Apparently his second hands tick faster than the usual. He left, taking more than I expected he would.

Winter, Day 65.
Is a heart supposed to look like this?

Winter, Day 90.
I can no longer hear it beating steadily. Some parts have frozen. I have tried to stitch pieces back together and they hold... if you would call it that. There are scars and cuts that haven't healed, swollen bits from the wounds that were infected because I tried to save the poison only to have it lash out and bite me in the back.

Winter, Day 104.
What have I done?

Winter, Day 135.
Look at it. No wait, don't. There isn't anything left to give you, anything worthy enough to even stand in your shadow. I promised you everything now I give you nothing. You waited for me yet I pursued others, consumed by my lust and my pride, where can I hide that I myself will not see this mess of a heart I've created? Where can I run to that I will not have to see the look on your face when you see what I have left to give you? Do you still want this, this broken vessel, this torn up heart, all the pieces that don't fit, all the stitched up parts? Do you still want me?

Spring, Day 1.
You do.

Spring, Day 3.
You do because you knew what you were getting yourself into long before you met me, you knew I would break your heart yet you still asked for mine, you do because you are love itself. A death defeating, grave shaking, forgiving, full of grace and mercy, life and righteousness kind of love. This is the love that chose me. Now I choose you.

Spring, Day 5.
What have I done to deserve this? As far as the east is from the west, so you have cleared my offense. When others asked for me, they knelt on one knee but you asked nailed to a tree. Now here you are. Despite what I've done you want me to return to you, want me to still have you. And you know what?

Spring, Day 7.
I do. And I give my heart to you in absolute surrender and total abandon. Here, though broken and torn, take it and make it new.
It was yours all along. I was yours all along.
A piece written for Logos' Vessel under Fringe Manila.
 Dec 2014 Bianca Custodio
I love standing
at the top largest hill of
Camp Half-Blood. Watching the
greens as the nymph wood dance in the hum of nature. Satyrs seasoning the forest with their magic recipe. I should spend more time, admiring the beauty of the wilds. For ere long, the border won't last long. Barbaric creatures will start to crawl. Demigods will fight, and I'll be there, holding a papyrus like a playwright.*

A cup of Percy Jackson and the Olympians before bed :D
Wounded knees, mango trees,
Walking down the same old street,

Eight years old, feeling bold,
A **** on the nose and an awful cold,

Chicken pox, knee-high socks,
Folded letters in a black shoe box,

Ponytails, fairy tales,
Choir practice, don't forget to exhale,

Chapter books, nasty looks,
Never had the chance to cook,

Constant smothers, doting mother,
Shamelessly listening to The Jonas Brothers,

Toothy grins, double chin,
Constantly losing bobby pins,

Stupid drama, Oxford Comma,
No DS for Cooking Mama

Cheeks flushed, prep crush,
I still regret that very much,

Detention, pay attention,
Meet everyone's expectations,

Disappointment, good intent
Nothing that I said was meant,

Growing up, just shut up,
Remember it's okay to mess up,

Years went by, I wonder why,
When did my childhood say goodbye?

— The End —