the river runs through,

pristine waters crossing jagged rocks,

ethereal tidal hands passing on their grace.

the only constant sound in the seclusion offered by pines and spruces,

miles far from crucifying gazes and demeaning canards, not shushed.



well actually it isn’t so far from your place,

but it is from mine and eyes closed, it’s a world away,

with our shadows next to the other’s,

feet swinging in and out of the currents,

rosebud lips and green eyes trained on brown ones, no longer discreet,

soft blur filtered-images.



i was hailed from the flighty and the brisk.

and early on i taught myself not to rely on

anything or trust anyone-

people would offer you poison disguised as milk

and venom-dripping back pats.

but gladly i oblige to drop this excuse for a heart in your graze,

still baring splinters from the plaster walls used to hide my being from the world;

on close fists you can take away my reservations.

promises have always been incredulous for me,

lest I put my trust on dandelion wishes and passing blue cars for you.



the sun goes down and tinting skin in twilight blue.

we’ve stayed for quite long basked in the brook’s mystique.

for a while longer, we stay,

gemstones braided in your hair; a corset paired with my whimsical skirt,

siren-eyed smirks and otherwise illicit touches.

no hunter has come to reveal us in this dwelling place.

the water nymphs witnessed all that we’ve done while in their home-

it’s no secret that the hills and trees have eyes,

hush, for their sight don’t leer nor scorn,

not minding carrying this partial secret,

offering safety in screaming this love out.



now i’m back to drawing your place beside mine on afterwork takeout receipts,

scribbles from memory of the secret place,

and casting my hopes upon the prismatic sky.



the sun shows another day,

and my suncatcher capturing rainbows,

reminding me that our safe space awaits,

where the river runs through.

may crosses the threshold;

still  in place despite being shaken,

things dangling in a state of shock, matters frenzied.

all i could do is stare at its tail ends, its ides, its roots, fiendish.



time is a quicksand, it has taught.

the month’s chasm i find myself suspended in,

as only half and in a room hellish, four corners built precariously

pent up dread *******.



breathe in breathe out



may leaves,

a sigh of only minimum relief

“what’s your idea of the calm?” you asked me once in passing, voice laced in such dreamlike wonder.
“those hours in the night spent alone while the whole house is asleep. reading old journals and letters in the middle of cleaning my room after a long period of sadness. an afternoon nap that ends up being better than the previous night’s sleep. the welcome hug a place gives as it remains unaware of my name.”
your end was filled with palpable silence, the enticing kind.

“what’s yours?” i exclaim
“you.”

and it so goes a shift from disbelief to nauseating giddiness to composure. i’ve always been all over the place barely making it anywhere. most days, i existed along the lines of chaos and maybe us meeting, our lines intersecting was a haphazard drift of peace. we were both in our equilibrium phase, breakeven skies, no storm in sight nor in passing. we were both so used to havoc but strangely for once, it repelled. we were each other’s calm after the storm but i guess i was misinformed-lo and behold, some storms never really leave. before you my grasp on the calm was slippery and i was mistaken that i could ever even try to be the silhouette of it. ‘cause that’s what you needed but even years past i still don’t know how to silence your thunders.

a concept:
you in a tux and me in a red dress that reaches my toes. we sit on the hood of your 50’s beat up chevy, drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle, speaking in metaphors and hyperboles. we kiss ‘til our senses burn and no sooner would it be one of those nights we try to stuff in the back of our heads even when we both know better than keeping cool in our own state of denial;

“for without blinking an eye the moon has seen it all.”

romeo,

you’re gone.

not from this world, no. you didn’t end up taking your life, lying next to what you believed was my lifeless body, only for me to gain consciousness too late, realizing the horrors of what you’ve done with no other choice but to follow through. it was quite an unexpected contrast to this ill-fated romance’s historically known ending.
if anything, we did end up together. somehow, we made it work, swearing on pinky promises that we always would on the roof under skies plagued with stars. with a few snaps of our fingers, we made fate bend to our own will. we believed we ruled fate’s coastlines as we ransacked abandoned buildings spray-painting quotes from our favorite books and lines from the songs we listened and danced mindlessly to on nights we’d chase down bottles with kisses frantic, laughing maniacally, imagining the apocalypse, us two being the last of earth’s inhabitants. as we shared candy corn roaming the carnival grounds, atop the ferris wheel right in time for the sunset’s tail, hands laced with the cheap rings from the marriage booth where we exchanged our hypothetical vows. as we scoured thrift shop racks eager to dress up for the halloween parties our friends threw, seeking the silence of the dim upstairs hallways and bedrooms, making out, costumes half undone while downstairs the crowd got trashed. as we picked items from the aisle on an unplanned grocery run, another batch of your burned meal that i’d roll my eyes at which you’d laugh, volunteering to order take outs in surrender. as we strolled the streets by the lunar tides, enveloped by silence, the comforting kind, the one that talked of what’s lost with the last of our heartbeats.
we were able to get past tragedy embedded in veins of young star-crossed lovers, an inescapable curse. we broke the curse all those times we laid on forest floors drizzled with the dead bodies of stars turning this supposedly sad tale the right side up. we were renegades rejoicing in the mayhem they caused all the nights they sneaked out-even though it wasn’t needed. we didn’t have to be in hiding-our families were surprisingly okay with us together.
our middle fingers were saluted to fate’s face-at least that’s how it felt. we thought we were on top of the world, atop that hill, the city twinkling below us like fairy lights in your bedroom. all our worries below, far behind. funny how all along fate was the one laughing, sneering at our faces. fate never sided with us, it was just waiting for the right moment to show what’s it got up its sleeves, to strike with excruciating tragedy.
and i guess here it is, the tragedy. just not how it’s depicted in history books but nevertheless it occurred like the breath i didn’t know i was holding. maybe in this life fate tried to be kind, but not quite, giving us a softer kind of heartbreak, melodramatic still, just one with no deaths. perhaps it got tired of eavesdropping all the times we used to talk about heaven and hell and dying and how we passed them off like the mere places we got our scars from. we weren’t ever scared of it, a complete opposite of how we were scared of losing the other. or i guess how i was.

i can’t quite comprehend how i faced that fear for you, how i let you go after we sat in your secondhand toyota like how we normally did because it was our safe place to talk. though that the conversation ran sans our usual order of french press and cappuccino and it ran without pleasantries. we talked about us and how you couldn’t see ‘us’ in the future anymore. i don’t know where we started to fall apart neither the how’s or the why’s. i don’t know how i managed to abide by your wish, your selfish plea. all i knew was that if letting you go was what’s going to make you happy then i wasn’t going to stand in the way of your happiness.
so yes, you’re gone but not dead, neither of us is dead. you’re just off to a place miles away from here, from me. you didn’t say where you’re headed but i saw the plane ticket on the nightstand the night before you left.
maybe love’s one huge tragedy once exhausted out. it’s been days and my mind’s in circles more than ever, digging inescapable trenches of this train wreck you’ve forged out of me. and i’m not sure, if this is me or the bitterness speaking, but i think i would’ve preferred our supposed ending. dying side by side.

but don’t mind that, i truly wish you well. i hope you find whatever it is when your feet touch the ground be it a reason to live or some girl named rosaline.

still yours,
juliet

please know that i’m alright, you don’t have to worry.
i’m sorry for ignoring your messages yesterday. i wasn’t sick, i just decided to skip school and i’m skipping it again today after i drop this off. please don’t be mad-i went to that overlooking spot we’ve planned on seeing together. i really needed some air to think, about the previous weeks. though in all frustating honesty, there’s not much of a need for it- the scenes they’re made up with play on repeat in my head anyway.

i’ve grown fond of getting to know you. of the sound of your voice while you talk about your musings no matter the range of randomness they go by. i’ll always remember that blue’s your favorite color, the satin kind just two shades away from the cerulean of the sea midmorning and that you prefer your meatloafs crispy. i’ll always remember all our exchanges in the locker room that went on even as the bell rang, the notes passed in class contaning nothing but stupid banters. and how can i forget lying in the field, our playlists running along the sky as it got drained of its last pastel colors?
oh how we held hands once, twice-thrice if only i didn’t stare for a second longer than i should’ve, making it awkward.

there’s no use in denying that i’d love to encase your fingers in mine each time i’m with you-be it in the field, in the halls, down some road we’d get lost in, that diner you get a bucket of wings from. perhaps you can fill the gap between my fingers with all the darkness and secrets and the whims you keep at the edges of your mind.

and that’s what terrifies me.
that in the course of talking to you i’ve grown fond of wanting this. of having ‘more’ come out of this.

all my life i’ve known better than tethering in territories anchored by love and all its *******; this isn’t me being cynical just realistic. this is more than just trespassing some abandoned building just to get a nice view from its rooftop. neither is it because of baggages accumulated from past heartbreaks. no it’s not that i fear your being failing to be inhabited by some past lover’s ghost, causing my expectations to be let down. i just have the tendency to act brashly-this part clearly shows just how capable i am of causing you pain, maybe more than the potential of loving. so i’d rather you hurt from this revelation of who i really am.

when you get this please just ignore me, i’d take pleasure in you hating me. ‘cause as much as i want to keep talking to you, i just can’t. i’m sorry.

when what used to be our songs play on shuffle, please don’t ruin them with thoughts of me. they deserve to be shared with someone who’d dedicate them to you as love letters not someone who has goodbye letters for a confession.

my feet are planted on these wooden planks,
the very separation of the soil beds and the stream. your hand’s quick to envelope mine in its warmth. dandelions dance with the cacophony of the breeze. the lighthouse stands tall a few distances from where we stood.
the sky gets littered by colors, sons and daughters of the sun bidding their farewell
everything within the expanse of the lakeshore showered in their translucence-
and quite frankly darling, we’re left with no exception.
you were staring off the distance
and in that moment you were almost miles away-but i didn’t mind,
for i was too mesmerized by the calmness
you were pulled under, the amber gold canvas bleeding in with the havoc it was pierced with.
i swear it was there where we’ve been in our safest state.
maybe that was our arrival to the once unknown destination we were targeting to be in all our plans to run away, fake our deaths.
we were a world away back there
and despite the sun sinking,
it breached the start of a hundred different voyages.
your presence was the closest i’ve felt to home.

in the expanse of a moment we were something more-something more than our sadness and all that we’ve stored in folds within the silhouettes.
and to a random onlooker,
we were just two kids content on being stupid and naive out on a chase for an i don’t know why the **** i’ve been put in this sick sad world but maybe we can stick together and make it ‘til we’re grey sort of happy ending.
to anyone else we weren’t anything but misfits, a pair lacking sense, knowing no better, junkies screaming out pent up emotions to rock songs on rooftops
or taking hairpin turns on 4am roadtrips that fueled the adrenaline.
thrill seekers, jaded
to anyone else, we were nothing more than a reckless pair almost making their way to the big screen or a typewritten poem the paper creasing on the edges.

but there we were made out of the sunset way past sets of bones and fractures by the sky,
the sunset looked like us.
now it’s months later, and we’ve let everything fade,
scratched out all that we’ve casted on the future, of long forgotten lullabies, null whispers- you’ve erased all our texts and chats,
in turn i have thrown out the flowers you picked and your book recommendations, the diy polaroids piled up in a box.
i stopped listening to all the songs you’ve sent. the curtains in my bedroom no longer match the shade of your hazel brown eyes.
the places i once brought you to are now ghost towns you’d get glimpses of in postcards 50 years from now-
at least that’s how they’re portrayed in my mind. but not without taking a drive, letting my footsteps baptize the ground they trample on with a feverish kiss,
one more time, one last time
clearly you’ve chosen to vanish, no traces left for a breadcrumb trail after that night at the diner where we spilled our closures
delivered with so much declaration,
leftover longing left caged in glassy eyes the whole time.
you stormed away with the last pieces of vulnerability, everything done with one final cruel exchange, just like that,
all my drunk texts a non-stop desperation reeking of “i love you’s” left to no reply;
that should signify that we’ve gone unto depths just to burn all our remnants
-maybe you more than i did.

here we are, free of the artifacts pointing back to each other,
from everywhere we’ve ever been
only to be proven of its blatant wrongness;
for we’ve forgotten about the sunsets but it sure as hell wouldn’t allow itself to be put to rest,
and it does the same thing with everything once marked by it.
you’re no longer here and our shadows have long unlearned the dwelling
once found on each other’s spines.
and maybe this you that never vacated my head even now, the one i couldn’t just bring to hate even after you’re no longer the you breathing softly beside the girl with twilight underneath her eyes.
but darling, the afterglows would pursue each time the sun sets;
each time, it unearths the glass shards from our fights and the longing and the butterflies crumbling onto chaos, our aftermath.
i no longer have an idea if you still marvel at the quiet like you once did,
as i stood there in the shades reflected by the currents under rushing with their beating.
“now we’re worlds away but sunsets still look a lot like us.”

“so, did you say it?”

“what?”

“you know what.”

“......”

“the butterflies in my stomach; they flutter when i attempt to.”

“so don’t let them turn into moths. they’d only swarm and rattle more cages.”

i’m sorry. i know i’m four days late but quit talking to me in that annoyed tone. hear me out, i got caught up with deadlines. i drove here as soon as i got them over with.

no just kidding, i can take your annoyance because i showed up late like always over your cold silence. perpetually cold. can’t  ghosts talk? or haven’t you at least learned how to drop objects, knock on walls or change the channels on tv? sometimes when the lights in the dorm’s foyer flicker i quickly think it’s your new way of saying “sup”. then i’d remember the building’s decades old. it could just be some unfixable maintenance problem or perhaps some other ghost.

i hate you for that. we used to talk about how we felt like never truly belonged in highschool. we promised to go to the same college and be dormmates and be there as we got used to our new lives. my roommate finally showed up a week ago, a month too late for freshmen week and all that orientation ****. she’s cool and plays bass in a band. i think you’d get along with her the way she’s a morning person and takes up archaeology like how you said you would.

i can no longer listen to movement’s daylily. paramore’s last hope. all time low’s therapy. pierce the veil’s hold on til may. because i just end up thinking of how i’d make you listen to them whenever you’d call because the urge was getting strong again.

all those times we talked about dying and death and planning our funerals. ****** we were so horridly morbid. i didn’t think you’d actually pull through with it-out of the two of us, you were the one wary of things unfound in your comfort zone and i was the one who took risks. but hell, now i admit my fears surrounded death or atleast intentional ones. i wish i didn’t doubt a single bit that you’d do it.

yours was almost perfect by the way. you wore that white lace dress from your favorite grandmother and the mortician gave you purple highlights. they didn’t put your playlist on because hell, no one could take the upbeatness of the guitar rifts and the drums but the five of us let it go on loop thrice after your burial, drinking on the hood of my car, toasting to our tears. the groupchat doesn’t get flooded with memes anymore. believe me, we tried so hard to have things not change because that’s what you would’ve wanted, for us to keep going even without you.
but **** that, it’s ******* to even pretend;
how do we get past this, past you?

you pierced a permanent gap in what the word platonic soulmate meant for me. i hate you. so, so much.
but i don’t. because ****, you’ve finally chosen yourself like how i always told you to after each breakup you went through with all those ****** guys but i didn’t mean it like that. i can only hope you’re happy in your heaven. we detested that but i would like to believe there’s an afterlife for you. that’s what you deserved all along. i hope it’s one with moshpits and parents who give you earnest attention and neverending halloween.

here. i brought you paper roses. i used blue vellum for this. mind to give me an a+ for effort?

i have to drive back, it’s getting dark. and yes i’ll drive safely and text you when i reach the dorm. i’ll have a spare key behind the picture frame, if you ever wanna drop by.

the hamper’s starting to spill, week-old clothes pooling on the floor. the sink’s in need of getting drained, rotten food debris floating in mucky dishwater. dried leaves await to be picked out from the plants by the kitchen window. parcels are left unopened by the porch. notifications simultaneously ping as i turn on my phone, urgent messages left unreplied.

the room’s ever bathed in the dark, light unable to filter through as twilight starts, time i’d remain unaware of had my alarm not gone off. i’ve gotten by with chips for three days now, the 1L soda bottle nearly empty. a week ago i was supposed to start working on a project due two days from now i’ve gotten so far as mapping out a concept but i’m still looking for the will to tick off step one;
the will to get up, make the bed, put on clothes that aren’t rumpled or three-day-old like these jeans that i still have on.

i try to give myself another one of my “TEDtalks”, a rundown analyzation of things to go through how i’ve arrived to this colossally sinking feeling. but all that my mouth can coherently gather are year-long sighs. the teddybears propped by the corner of my bed, their black beaded eyes seem to hold more life, their stitched smiles actually formed with meaning. my blanket rests by the corner all wrinkled but here i am, sharing one with the dull melancholy dwelling in each heartbeat, babying it. i should brush it off but it clings, like the remnants of stickers you’ve placed on your first ever guitar that remains up to this day.

three days ago i was doing fine, not duly elated like a holiday’s thrill but i was able to joke around, go out, fulfill plans, cope with what the day throws, go home, satisfyingly crack my knuckles at the end of the night. now all the plans have stopped being sublime, “what’s even the point?” the only thing i can offer when they make themselves known.

this isn’t new, sliding in its way effortlessly into routine from time to time but each time it occurs i still get stupefied. like a sailor going down a shipwreck’s trail yet all i do is fling my lifevest off the faraway shore. like trying to find the lightswitch in my bedroom even when there are no lightbulbs installed. like some modus operandi where they hypnotise you and i find myself caught in a trance unable to break free even though i’m well aware of that sort of scheme firsthand.

i catch myself staring at the blackholes growing out from fissures in the walls. it turns into a staring contest dragging on for i don’t know, hours. i don’t know how long truly as clock work becomes fast-paced, mechanical, submerged in space.

alas, the aftermath dawns on in the early hours, ensuing the breakage of a curse years’-worth; i step out, unused to the halo of light. dewdrops form on orchid trees as the city fervently sleeps. the fog has miraculously lifted. relief follows through.

“minahal mo ba talaga ako?”

pakawala ko sa buntong-hiningang tanong. higit isang taon ding namalagi sa isipan ko.

“minahal mo man lang ba ako?”

pag-ulet kong tanong nang manatili siyang tahimik. iniangat ko ang mga mata ko para tignan siya. isang taon na mula ng huli naming pagkikita. iba na ang gupit ng buhok niya ngayon. mas nagmukha siyang seryoso dahil don.

ilang minuto pa ang lumipas bago siya sumagot. nanatili ang tingin niya sa labas.

“minahal kita. higit pa sa alam mo. marahil, higit pa sa naparamdam ko.”

“pero bakit ganon? ikaw yung huli kong inisip na manghuhusga, pero sayo pala mismo manggagaling.”

“ikaw yung higit na pinagkakatiwalaan ko sa lahat, pero ikaw rin yung bumali” matipid siyang ngumiti. ramdam ko yung pait. walang emosyon sa kaniyang mga mata.

napailing ako. eto nanaman. mga salitang pinakawalan namin nungg gabing natapos kami-ang kaibahan lang, sa personal ngayon at hindi sa tinig lang.

“mali ka. hindi mo ko minahal. hindi ako, kundi yung bersyon ko sa isip mo. hindi ako, kundi yung ako na nabuo mo sa imahinasyon mo.”

“minahal kita. sobra-sobra. kaya lang, nagbago ka. nung una, paunti-unti, hanggang sa pakiramdam ko, ibang tao na yung nasa harap ko. siguro dahil, nalingat ako, dahil di ko binuhos lahat ng atensyon ko.” saglit niya kong binigyan ng tingin na parang nahihirapan.

“dahil di naman siya nawala talaga diba? sabi mo noon, may mga pagkakataong magkasama tayo pero siya yung iniisip mo.”

hindi siya makasagot, pero bakas sa mata niya na tama ako. nakaramdam ako ng kirot sa dibdib ko. matagal na yon. ayos na rin ako. sadyang iba pa rin pala kapag harap-harapang sabihin sa’yo.

“pero hindi naman ganun ang pagmamahal. hindi naman porket nagbago, dapat nang sukuan. kase lahat naman nagbabago. kahit ikaw, narasan ko ang ilang beses **** pagbabago. pero kahit ganun, pinili ko pa ring manatili. para sa’yo. para sa’tin”

“patawad. alam kong ako yung naging dahilan kung bakit umalis ka noon, alam kong napagod ka. pero hindi ko inakalang ganun-ganun mo lang ipagpapalit. na ganun ka kabilis magkakaroon ng bago.”

“hindi kita pinagpalit! hindi ko tinapon yung isang taon!”

mabilis kong kinalma ang sarili ko. ganitong ganito rin yung mga sinabi niya noon. ganun pa rin pala ang tingin niya. na binasura ko lang lahat. na parang mas mabigat pa yung naramdaman niya sa isang beses na pinili ko ang sarili ko kaysa sa kung paano niya pinaramdam na kahit ako yung naroon para sa kanya, kahit kailan di magiging sapat.

“bago ako umalis, sinabi ko sayo kung bakit. umasa akong ipapaintindi mo kung bakit nagbago yung pakikitungo mo, umasa ‘kong mapapansin **** nasasaktan na ako. umasa akong pipigilan mo ko, na sasabihin **** 𝘢𝘺𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯 ‘𝘵𝘰. pero niisang salita, wala akong narinig. malamang iisipin ko, wala lang lahat nang ‘yon. kase hinihintay mo lang naman talaga kong umalis diba? ayos lang sayo kung manatili ako o hindi. ako kase yung nasa tabi mo. sanay ka na kamong iniiwan. sinubukan ko naman eh. sinubukan kong maging iba sa kanya base sa mga kwento mo tungkol sa kanya. kahit ang hirap. pero kahit ano namang gawin ko, ganun pa rin iniisip mo. na mawawala ako. kaya wala na rin akong ibang magawa kundi lumisan. kase sa pananatili ko, naubos ako. naubos na ata lahat ng isasakit bago pa man ako magpaalam. kahit nung nasa tabi mo pa ko, wala na akong maramdaman. kaya hindi mo ako masisisi kung mabilis. gusto ko lang namang mawala yung pagkamanhid. kasi kung may nakuha akong explanasyon o kahit isang salita galing sayo, alam **** hindi na ko tumuloy sa kabilang dako ng pinto, na mas pipiliin kita ulet-handa akong isantabing muli yung sakit.”

may ilang luhang nagpumilit na tumakas sa gilid ng mga mata ko. agad ko ring pinunasan ang mga ito. bigla nanaman bumalik ang mga ala-ala na akala mo hindi taon ang lumipas, parang kahapon lang. kasabay nito ang panandaling panunumbalik ng sakit.

“naniwala ako sayo nung sinabi **** ako lang. na walang iba. pero ang sakit nung ilang linggo lang pagtapos natin, may iba na agad sa tabi mo. may iba ka na agad kasama’t kayakap. may iba nang nagpapangiti sayo.”

kita ko ang pagkuyom niya sa kaliwa niyang kamay gaya ng ginagawa niya dati sa tuwing may bumabagabag sa kanya.

“tapos na tayo nun. gaano katagal ba dapat akong magluksa? kahit naman nung nasayo pa ako, mabilis mo ring binawi yung sayang pinaramdam mo nung una. na una pa lang, kahit ako na yung naroon, kasama mo pa rin siya sa isip mo. minahal mo lang ako kase ako yung nasa tabi mo. kaya wag mo akong sisihin kung ginusto kong sumaya ulet.”

“sana binungad mo na agad yun nung humingi ulet ako ng isa pang pagkakataon. hahayaan naman kita. kung nalaman ko lang ‘yon, hindi na kita ginulo pa. pinatay ko na dapat lahat ng naipong pag-asa sa utak ko, na pwede pa.”

“ang malas ko lang talaga, pagdating sayo, kaya kong itigil lahat. nung ginusto **** bumalik ako, umaahon na ko paunti-unti eh. kahit paano, nakakahinga na ko ulet. lahat sila sinabing wag na kitang pansinin, na sarili ko naman muna sa pagkakataong ‘to. akala ko mali lang sila ng paghusga, kase hindi ka nila kilala katulad ng pagkakakilala ko sayo. wala eh, nagparamdam ka lang, naapektuhan nanaman ako. pagdating sayo, ang tanga-tanga ko. ganun na lang kita kamahal. hindi lang isang beses; umulet pa ko. ayun lang naman kase yung kailangan ko, yung marinig na gusto mo pa, na gusto **** ayusin.”

“inaayos naman na natin nu’n diba? nagiging masaya na tayo ulet. nakikita ko kung pa’no mo sinusubukang bumawi. kaso wala, nung malaman **** sinubukan kong kumilala ng iba hindi mo matanggap. traydor ako, sabi mo. at sa pagkakatong yun, ikaw naman yung nang-iwan. akala ko wala na akong mararamdaman. na ayos lang, nangyare na ‘to, naulet lang, nalampasan ko na ‘to. pero hindi, mas masakit pa pala. tangina sobrang sakit. kase ayun na yung hinihingi ko, tapos binawi nanaman kung kelan hinding-hindi ko inaasahan. tangina.”

“siguro nga kaya hindi naging maayos ‘to kase hindi ko inayos yung nakaraan. hinayaan kong sundan ako ng multo niya, hinayaan kong saniban ng nakaraan yung kung anong meron tayo. na hanggang ngayon hindi pa rin ako tuluyang makalaya.” mahinang sabi niya. ramdam ko yung pagsisisi sa boses niya.

“sana naiayos mo na yun ngayon. sana mas maayos ka na ngayon. sana mapatahimik mo na yung mga memoryang patuloy na humahabol sa’yo. sana naghihilom ka na. sana, hindi na maranasan ng mahal mo ngayon yung naranasan ko.”  

sa loob ng isang taon, natutunan kong tanggapin lahat-mula sa mga memorya hanggang sa pa’no kami nawakasan, kung pa’nong di naman siya talaga naging akin lang. hindi naging madali pero kinailangan. sa huli, wala naman talaga akong magagawa. nangyari na yung mga pangyayari. nagkapalitan na ng mga masasakit na salita. naubos na namin ang isa’t-isa.

“nung tuluyan nang nawala yung tayo, wala akong naging iba at wala nang susunod pa. mas gugustuhin ko na lang na mag-isa. kase yung sakit na dala-dala ko bago pa man kita nakilala, hindi ko namalayang naipasa sayo. sobra sobra na yung pinsalang nadulot ko. tama na. ayos na yung ako na lang yung nagdurusa.”

“-alam kong kahit ga’no ko pa gustuhing ibalik yung oras para itama lahat ng nagawa kong mali, hindi na pwede. said na. siguro hanggang doon lang talaga tayo. sa ganito siguro talaga tayo maiuuwi. tama na.” pagpapatuloy niya.

sa puntong ‘to, naiyak na rin siya. kumuha siya ng panyo at pinunas sa kanyang mukha.

“baka nga. baka hindi talaga pwede.” bulong ko.

tinignan ko ulet siya, sa kahuli-huling beses. ilang minuto kaming nabalot ng katahimikan, nakatingin pareho sa kawalan. siya ang naunang tumayo sa kinauupuan.

“alam kong hindi mabubura ng ilan mang ‘patawad’ kung ganito kita sobrang nasaktan. pero gusto ko lang ulit humingi ng patawad.”

pinanood ko ang palayo niyang pigura hanggang isa na lang siyang maliit na tuldok at tuluyang nawala. pinakiramdaman ko ang sarili ko. humingang malalim.

isang taon na yung lumipas. halos ganito rin yung nangyari noong gabing iyon. ang pagkakaiba lang, noon, mas pinapangunahan kami ng emosyon. isang taon na pero ngayon ko pa lang talaga patuloy na maibabaon. kinailangan kong marinig ulet. ngayon, totoo ngang tapos na. wala na. natuldukan na.

if nothing happened and everything’s still normal.

there’s midnights where i hope you’d pick up and your voice would sound like steel and ice and you’d tell me to stop calling, that it’s been eight months since for ****’s sake and that you never want to hear from me ever again.

to think about it, you never even bothered to block my number. or my social media accounts. you couldn’t even be bothered to give a decent explanation when i found out about her. when i confronted you how it happened. how you met her in the midst of us. how you ended up with her even when i was still in the picture. as if you were just waiting for me to get out of it, both of your lives. like we never even happened to begin with.

there’s still midnights when my hands shake, my phone screen blurry from tears, my head pounding from the countless shots i’ve taken. midnights where i want to ask you “how?”, how you both are alright and happy and over the moon, while here i am, still stuck and miserable, still hopelessly pining for you-it's all unfair. how you got the guts to fall for her when you claimed you loved me with your unending professions. how you were able to walk away from what we had because you decided it’s her you wanted to be with. how you didn’t even have to move on from me. how all of these, those eight months seem so easy for the both of you. the hangover the morning after’s what makes me realize i did send you the recordings.

i tried to reach you again the midnight after, but the recording said that the number i have dialed has either been disconnected or no longer in service.

i guess you have finally changed your number.

-at least i know my messages reached you.

one after the other
left right left right
faster, quickened footsteps
i can feel my lungs giving out

blood seeps from my veins
bruises scattered on my skin
you used to call them lovemarks;
once upon a time you told me you loved me

how did we get here?
i thought we were building a home of endless possibilities;
now all that’s left is a blazing carcass
my broken bones turning into ashes,
please lie down with me

you’ve caught up to me,
ran out of places to hide
but before you pull the trigger,


take me back to where it all begun

he met her at a very strange time in his life. no, scratch that. that was basically a quote from fight club.

i.
but frankly, he did meet her at his lowest lows
when he wanted the vortex to **** him in so he could vanish and rest and maybe find peace-
for his girl was gone and left him to fend for himself in this chaotic world, scattering the past, present and future they’ve dreamt of in a hurricane before she did, one that ****** the life out of him
his girl, the girl of his dreams, the girl he dreamt with, the girl he dreamt for, the girl who shattered his dreams gone

ii.
he slowly opens up to her
and she slowly gets to know him
well mostly, his love story left to die with its tragic ending, another tale of an unrequited- now one sided- love
she doesn’t really mind for she’s known pain and misery,
known them enough to last almost half of her lifetime
she knows how having them as company turns living into the art of merely breathing
and so she refuses to take flight from this almost stranger who, because of the way circumstances have rolled she’s stuck with
misery loves company doesn’t it?

iii.
he has turned her into his shoulder to cry on
changes taking toll with time’s passing,
yet their connection remains constant,
their unexpected friendship unfazed
two people with the same wavelength, gliding with the same frequency,
relatively similar to soulmates
and they could end up together in the snap of a finger, voila
as easy as how random they picked up
but nothing easy is ever worth having

and try as they, she might,
it seems like it can’t be


iv.
she’s always there for him
she’s seen him cry, beat himself up enough times
she’s aware that he could be quite a handful
perhaps ignoring his constant “i need you’s”
and “please don’t give up on me’s”
and evaporating one day into the air and blocking his number would be the best option;
letting go could be her salvation
before she chooses drowning over keeping her head up for one particular boy-
she’s the one consistently found on his side
she’s the one with the 2am jokes when the world decides to act as his shadow
and the one with the random spur of the moment topics that never fail to amuse him

v.
sometimes he’s left wanting to lose the remaining sliver of hope he has for humans
so he makes her out to be just like everybody else
on those occasions when he wants nothing more than bottles of ice cold whiskey and packs of cigarettes from dawn to the late night hours, to cease existence
he expects her to appear and announce her leaving
and he’s left with this internal satisfaction all the time when she lets down his morbid expectation that she’s given up on him
she remains on her place in his life

vi.
but maybe she’ll never be the girl

even if she’s always with him,
always nagging him to get out of bed
and live this ******* up thing disguised as life
even when she becomes this bright light trying so hardly to outshine her darkness and his darkness
even when she manages to see the good in him
even after she lets out her “i’m here for you’s”
and “i won’t leave you’s”
and “i got you’s”

she’s still not the girl
there’ll always be this wall,
barricading the distance
no matter how little between them
all the while the lines get blurrier

vii.
she confuses him enough for him to get a grip
and even feel in the state of denial he’s locked in,
really looking through her remains his failure
even after it all, majority of her is still invisible
somehow she’s still a stranger,
just strangers who because of their own messed up loneliness,
bared their souls out to each other
and their needs and attachment
get in the way too soon blinding them,
thinking it could be something more,
something it’s not

viii.
strangers.
maybe that’s all they’re meant for

you made me believe in love a g a i n,
despite all of the danger lethally submerged in the bottom waiting to resurface,
despite my movements of cautionary measure in this dance for two,
despite the clear tell-tale warnings

you made me believe in love;

only to prove all the impending signs of doom
and my doubts right
only to have made a fool of myself
and develop a surreal hatred over it

only to serve as a reminder-
that i'm not cut out
for silly little intimacies,
called love

oh, don’t you know?
you’re made of paper
skin more featherweight than porcelain could ever be
bones kindled to flames in the whim of a match

oh you’re just floating through
haven’t you figured out?
you’re lighter than dust
time remains eternal as you let the wind carry you
you’re just as hollow as a ghost’s residue

decay is easy,
decompose by a lighter’s rage
torture caused by slits, disintegrate into pieces or turn into shreds
won’t somebody tell you how to stay afloat

when the world pours down all its weight onto the lightness of your being,
how do you not sabotage your own strings when they’re all tangled up?
how do you shout at the wind against its hurtful breeze to take you anywhere but here?
for you don’t know where you should be but it’s just not here?

your ribcage tearing up, insides spilling out

-how do you not let the flames devour you whole when it’s all that’s left for you?

i hope you find your place
a dwelling of your safe and sound
be it-
a cafe,
a building,
a house,
some space confined by four walls,
the space between a pair of arms,
a library,
free gigs,
the seashore,
your bathroom,
a twenty four hour convenience store,
an empty parking lot,
a skate park,
your room,
someone else’s room,
a rooftop,
the spaces kept kindled by your lungs,
or your bones,
or every beat of your heart;
i hope you find your place

-a place to get lost only to be found; a home

and the dark can be our halfway

let it be the constant place where we meet
let me wrap my arms around your delicate frail being
and mess your hair up with my fingers;

for in the dark there’s no need to hide
behind masks dearly known as our comfort zones
nor tread under cautious words

the dark provides a blanket of safety,
it knows about the blackest parts;
yours and mine and vulnerability,

in the dark you’ll find nothing but candour

the sunset can wait
-let’s hang in the dark for longer

a black quilt patched up with diamonds for stars looming above us,
our feet effortlessly following through the steps
even when we’re both bad at dancing
you spin me around
and pull me in for a dip
all the while having your eyes trained on mine
with the kind of emotion i can't quite decipher
but i didn’t mind-
in the back of my mind this could pass off as the one where i'm in a white dress and gold could be found on both of our ring fingers- the orchestra plays the song once more
and when we finally finish off,
there was even a smattering of applauses from the crowd
the scene ending with us taking a bow
-little did we know that we were dancing to our swan song

you leaving the apartment we’ve rented-
the first place i’ve ever truly called home
ever since the night we both decided to runaway,
from the dead end town that claimed us stuck,
it was why i smoked stick after stick
allowing the nicotine to almost be a substitute
to how you used to fill the voids within my being
and the nebulas obliterating my existence
the sound of your footsteps sounded almost in tune
with a choir offering a song for a funeral
if every time i blew the smoke out
and as it disappears into thin air
i could forget the way you said my name
and how you told me you loved me and tucked me in
each night my nightmares would get the best of me, if only
but your memory is as evident as the corruptness
becoming more present in my lungs
just as i throw another pack out;
i wish i could hate you with such energy,
the kind that makes your body shake to the core
but it’s been my fifth cup of coffee for the day
and the tremors the caffeine give off are doing their best
in reminding me of the giddiness and excitement i got
whenever you’d hold my hand on all those dates ago
it only reminds me of how i still feel the same for you and always have
even during our biggest fights and watching you pack your suitcase
and holding those words back- my pride be ******
while your departure was made and your paraphernalia’s all that’s left, all the while everything’s still yet to sink in

and this,
refusal to get over the world we shared
and the plans that made their way up,
somewhere way up in the air before we could give life to them
and the dreams that somewhere two dreamers are now inhabiting together for the first time

repeatedly being with you in dreams each night
can’t ever compare to the sharpeners and the blades
that once upon a time claimed my wrists and my thighs home,
marking and leaving landmarks as red as the x on a treasure map
neither can lying down on the asphalt with my eyes closed,
taking flight just when a car slams its brakes
just in time before i could feel it run me over
cannot compare to the feeling of once having you but not anymore

how evident it is that my destruction lies within you,
-and even after that you’re still my favorite form of self harm

the stars seem to have aligned this time, perhaps the first
the odds are up and not against their favor, rewritten
the sky lights up, a whole canvas of black illuminated because of them, for them-

or so they thought

too oblivious
for not far long is a meteor shower
happens only once in who knows how long
twice if you’re fortunate;
they weren’t

and so all is meant for skyfall-
asteroids, meteorites, dusts, ashes; the galaxy
their fate’s scratched upon scattered in debris
nebulas forged with everything they’ve shared
plagued in bits, slowly ceasing their existence
strings pushed, pulled, tied together
weaving in constellations shaped in the glory of their names and being
should’ve, they should’ve known from the very start
should’ve known better

that the stars were never in their favor
just setting themselves up for a trap,
****** even when lifted to the celestial
they should’ve known
the moment they first started rotating in each other’s axis
stuck on a merciless gravitational force hurtling at such a speed
down

          down

                    downwards

crashing, ****** up by a black hole

-should’ve been contented seeing each other with astral projection

my ghosts are fond of your ghosts-
perhaps you are my exorcism
i guess we should stay with each other’s souls
as my pasts and your pasts get cleansed

yet you must know
that the horrors of what has been before you
can’t ever compare to the threats
that losing you magnifies

-so we’ll stay together ‘til we could get past walls, tenants of a house we’ll haunt

but then you’d be jack and i’d be rose,
setting sail in a cruise trading questions just to get to know the other
then you’d stare at me for a beat longer than normal
i’d take note of the different type of glint in your eyes
as you ask me “where to miss?’
to which i’d respond with “to the stars”
we got the ocean below us
and despite its vastness
and atlantis’ threat
from down down down below
its vast clear surface a reflection of a crystal ball
of us and the future
yet everyone knows how it all ends
and so the ship sinks
but this time it’s not just because of an iceberg;
they’re the iceberg
and they pull me away from you
and it all comes down in a slow gradual yet sped up type of sinking
as if it were a tragic accident; one that was staged
‘cause surrounded underneath by their iciness,
they keep dragging me away from you
and the plans we made once the cruise reaches the port
and the route to which we’d go to once the ship is docked-
the way they repeatedly tell me that you’re not for me
is enough for me to drown
and i remember when you told me that we’re in this together
and that you’d rather be with me
through hell and back
than to never have stopped me from jumping out as response to the song of the waves,
from never learning my name
but this, darling i’d rather not drag you into this
i don’t want this love to be the cause of your downfall, so i’m saving you
by doing this i’m shielding you from hypothermia that they, that this tragedy will cause you
i hope the warmth of my embrace will be enough to last possibly a lifetime-
even if it’s the last
let the headlines label this,
as an accident, casualties upon casualties
for we both know better than that;
meeting you was never a blip in destiny’s timeline or a regret
my only regret would be
that we didn’t stay longer in the staircase
neither did we stop the cruise from heading in the direction it did-
towards our doom we could’ve survived
you must know, darling
that if there is a day that i await,
it would be the one where we’re once again in that staircase
and you’re wearing that lazy smile i learned to love
and everything would be alright this time
and there would be no crash, no sinking, no drowning, no separation
the cruise just goes to its next stop and its next
and we’d be drinking from flutes of champagne
voyaging through the vastness of this body of water,
safe from its threats in each other’s arms
but for now let them think
that any possibility of us drowned deep under
as the ship gets ****** by the greedy tides, the greed they breathe with

there are these girls
with flowing golden hair
radiating against their vibrant auras
on a sunset along the shore
and those girls,
with icicles in their stares
who spoke sentences that leave you with a frostbite

there are summer girls and winter girls-

and she's more of a summer girl;

i can see why you fell for her,
the sun and all the forest fires she's started in the folds of your paper heart, torches lighting up every time you hold her hand
of course who can forget the orange glow the world around gets every time her lips are pressed against yours?
she's the epitome of a perfect sky capturing all the gleam you've ever and never thought of


then comes the winter girl

a hundred and one warnings about her have been told
number one: she's crystalline and soon you'll be nothing but jagged cracks
number two:she's not as pure as snow is
number three: you do not want to turn into a hypothermic misanthropy so run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run

yet somehow underneath the layers of her icy composure
lie delicate snowflake structures-
you get a glimpse of what's underneath the tip of the iceberg

and she proved the warnings wrong one at a time
it's like you're ice skating for the first time, tripping, but she's there to catch you just in time
she'll remind you of the giddiness of the snowball fights you had with your childhood friends all those decembers ago
suddenly being with her feels as right as a warm cup of chocolate on the first snowfall
and you dwell in her chilling comfort once the sun vanishes, taking away your summer girl

but in the end,
you still choose to end up with your summer girl and the bronze sparkling moments
leaving the wintergirl caught up in her blizzards in reckless abandon , existence crumbling

and i understand why
for who would choose having no permanent residence over a fully furnished home?

but then i should have told you from the start,the secret:
you’re not suppose to choose between those girls
or even turn them into something but just a plain casualty
because summer girls' flames will engulf your whole being until you're robbed of the capacity to blow out the candles
you'll strike all the matches you can find just so the love will never turn lukewarm
and you'll thaw the winter girl's frozen soul even if it numbs you to the core

these girls, they're powerful gypsies,
personifications of destructive illustrious love

here she hears the sea’s enticing lullabies
lulling her to step foot
and let the riptide take her,
get ****** in by a greedy whirlpool
only to find a place full of bliss
beneath the sky under the sea
might as well stay there for eternity
with her golden boy

refusal coming to her senses
as she steps foot
beyond the shallow
for contentment along the lines
that separate the sand and the current bind
but no sooner would she find
that her golden boy
isn’t so golden after all
all the gold wearing off,
the crown on his head tarnishing
as he makes his way down
upon hearing the calls of the seas
magnified by sirens’ songs
he holds his hand out for her
but she remains planted
compromising his departure
for someone else’s great arrival
-find someone worth ‘not dying’ for

and it’s one thing to make you happy,
that half moon beam lingering on your face
efficiently magnifying its glory, an everglow

being the one to put it across
equals to an entirely different whole,
almost like a completely new entity
being able to do so is the feeling that’s left in your system
once the adrenaline wears off as you unwind after a very long day
that’s satisfying to your senses and your expectations somehow fulfilled
it’s like getting something you’ve crossed your fingers countless times in a row for
something you’ve wished for on fallen lashes
and every red car passing by as you wait for the bus
gradually, it defies the definition of precious
a reminder of why the color yellow is associated with happiness,
able to eradicate the dark clouds
surrounding the pitch black sky on your face,
streaks of sunshine hiding underneath
leaving a profound feeling of greatness
it’s seeing something priceless and being willing to do anything
to get views of it again and again

maybe i’ve developed a strong liking for your presence
and you
and your thoughts
your words
your perception
unconsciously it seems, you’re trailing my emotions along with you,
in the paths you take;
but i really don’t mind
and as long as you are, as long as you’re there
i’d keep betting on tossed coins and the vastness of uncertainty
to make you happy, to see you smile as many times as i could
lingering with the distant thoughts that maybe
i could be the reason behind those smiles
for you’re certainly the cause of this unfamiliar euphoria residing underneath my skin

-maybe these painted, unmasked smiles on your face could suffice for the unspoken

swimming in pools shined upon by a hundred neon lights,
racing each other past labyrinths, really just stairs with never ending flights,
with the hum of playlists we created in the background and almost perfect sights
a spectrum arrayed over countless black and white nights
now our tracks rest over pedestrian lines,
waiting for the light to turn green
looking silly with the feathered, glittery wings strapped on our backs- this proven by the numerous stares people keep giving us
i could care less because you were in an urge to buy them from the costume shop; you said it was a necessity for tonight's "mission"
and it was all just so funny; you're funny
because the first night i whispered
“you up for an adventure?"
you just looked at me with so much hesitation,
as if i were a delinquent and you'd rather i leave you to yourself
but now we can almost be a platonic bonnie and clyde;
waiting for the light to go red holds such betrayal
because as long as it stays orange we can have more adventures
and we'll always get a glimpse of the first sign of sunrise
but once it turns green,i know you'd still go after her
that no matter how much thrill the night makes you feel,
how many graffitis we'd spray paint our own graffitis over,
how many new songs and mixed CD's we'd trade,
it's still her
somehow amidst the full moons and the waxing crescents
you're still stuck in the time watching the sunset and the raindrops gently come home to the earth with her
when you were enough to her
you're still stuck in what almost was and what could've been, what could still be; but will it ever be again?
you're still hers
you're stuck in the chasms she's unknowingly created
chained to her love that made you alive all this time
tied to her presence you long to feel again
and i want so badly to set you free but i can't
because you wouldn't mind drowning in a whirlpool if she told you to do so
four
three
two
one
light turns red, traffic halts
- please don't leave just yet

hey it's 3:56 am and by now we'd be talking with ramblings from our insomniac minds. i promise i'm not ignoring you despite the non reply to your message hours ago. it's just...it actually hurts when i think about how you'd never see this, us more than this and i'm more than grateful that we're friends but can we maybe try to be something more? can you hold me , look me in the eyes and try to see if you could love me, if i can grant you absolution, make the pain she left vanish? sometimes i think you might feel something for me too but i don't know it might just be the haze surrounding my thoughts. can we at least try? i hope you'll answer. call me back as soon as you get this.
-can we mimic two lovers and how they prove their love under the witness of the moon goddess?

exactly who would've thought
that she’d want flowers to bloom within his darkest parts, a stark contrast to the withered roses placed on the dead love barely letting him take breaths?
that his interest would be piqued
by someone who acts too smart, like they’re too good for butterflies and chivalry
that dreams of being somewhere else rather than the place for the dead started creeping up in their sleep
that they would be each other’s lifeline when from the start they wanted to be anything but alive?

l o v e
so foolish
such a liar
ephemeral

unless if it were true
it'd be pure and patient and selfless

and so their love remains
in caskets it does not seek rest
granted by the reaper that for as long as it will remain true
then it shall withstand and surpass the threat of mortality
yet time runs nothing but up
and when oblivion decides to meet them
then they would by each other’s side
a burial of two hearts encompassed by love
(graveyard part three)

looking down upon
the gravestones marking countless failed attempts of people
at the illusion disguised as “love”
was something she’d grown fond of
seeing “lovers” for the fools they are
acting like she wasn't a fool herself
thinking that she was better than them for not trying,
getting ****** by the vortex of giving all your heart
to someone almost like digging your own grave
(graveyard part two)

their love was long dead
but sometimes he came by the grave, placing fresh flowers
as if waiting, wishing for them to sprout new buds of hope for what's been gone

romeo,
i've forgotten where we met
i think it was at some party?
you were with your friends that night and you were just someone who caught my fascination that time
the next thing i know your face was lit up from laughing at a lame *** joke i told that you deemed witty
and the night went on, we got in your car and drove aimlessly
there's a mixtape you made playing in the background- later on i found out that was your way of introducing me to your favorite bands
my heart badly wanted to get out of my chest the whole time- it was so loud inside, knocked up by all the anxious flutter you sent unknowingly through me, the weariness i had from willingly entering a stranger's car gradually melted
i was relieved that we actually had a conversation despite it being casual and light
i remember the way your eyes glimpsed at me as i got out of your car
and not even ten minutes have passed when you sent me a text saying, good night sleep tight
but i didn't really catch sleep not until it was 4 in the morning, an hour after i finally calmed down the slightest bit
and we took it from there and all the moments we've had are tenants in the hotel rooms tucked in the lone corner of my brain (i keep coming back to them)
it was all too fast and i was falling and it just couldn't be because what if i havent gotten in your car that night
if this wasnt written by the stars or some great force but just black ink over the lines of some doomed fate?
and it doesn't make sense and history repeats itself and everyone knows this is a tragedy where you'll come after me and it'll be the end of the both of us
i had to leave
i had to save you
because this was never supposed to happen
it's supposed to be romeo and rosaline or some other girl
but right now you probably found your rosaline in a pack and a bottle in your hands
and im sorry for causing you pain; you dont deserve to hurt

now i remember:

it is east where we met;

but quite frankly i am not the sun
-juliet

hey

it seems that im back here again at the place we used to call ours
i still call it ours because no one really comes up here and i know this because i go up here everyday after school
i know it's been months but i still love the view just as much. it's peaceful u here and it's getting cold but dont worry, i carry my jacket around like you always used to remind me to- i miss you
there's a lighter in my hand, it looks like the one from the day at the convenience store where you first talked to me-the black one with scribbles all over it-, remember? (do you even remember me?)
don't worry i stopped smoking a month ago- you've been telling me to quit ever since- so no, i didnt go up here to smoke
i guess i just like watching the flame flicker on and off; sometimes i burn things- dont worry it's harmless,i swear, though it does hold a certain sort of power, you know? once you light something up, it just sits there and detoriates then it's gone

it ***** how my mind's still stuck on you as if you never left, the memories are kept kindled
i keep looking back at our pictures, i still believe they can lead me to a trainstation or a bus stop for a detour back to everything
i dont know why i cant seem to stop- my friends think im over it
the thing is i tried getting over it but not really, just a halfway attempt
i met a guy twice, thrice and they'd last until i wanted them to (but i dont- time passes by fast and they start to irritate me sooner than later)
this makes me a sadist but i cant help it, the pain's deadly and i still relinquish on it
maybe it's my fuel, it keeps me alive

i gotta say you're really good at your thing- with the hiding and all- it's what made me look in to you the first place, your persistency and consistency (or i thought you were)- ignorning and disappearing
ive tried looking for you, keep hoping that i'd bump on you in the halls but i never really see you and you never come back up here-if you did, id know
i cant say that i 'loved' or 'love' you because i still dont believe in that fickle thing-infatuated, maybe
all i know is that i got attached and im left to suffer with this downfall. i knew it would end sooner or later, i knew you'd leave but i didnt expect you to be the one to go. tis is the only part of the story uncalled for-the begrudging plot twist

i should regret our paths diverging but i dont feel hatred towards you. im stuck living in the past, chasing ghosts of you and me, even now i still think it was worth it, ironic right?
maybe meaning's found in the fleeting
i no longer depend on cigarrettes but i still keep lighters in my pocket, with a flick i watch the flame because it reminds me of our times- it's so very much like the memories that cease to die; i cease to forget you
maybe in some way it can make up for a love lost
the fire reminds me to sta alive like how you used to- you were my fire

i guess i cant take you off my mind because you gave me something ive been deprived of-hope-when you held my hand in the alley, the warmth of your palm made me hope and only now do i realize that hope is a treacherous thing
now the night has reached its peak and i have to go, mom's going to be worried
i'd come back here tomorrow, i know you're not coming back at all
but i hold on,
to my lighters,
i hold on to hope

just in case

" i   l  o  v  e  y  o  u "

i used to think it was too fast

too fast for it to be real

but now i often catch myself wondering,

had i said it back,

would've it made you stay

and would we still be okay

but im glad that i didn't

because you didn't do anything but leave

and now i know it's all u  n  r  e  a  l

-at least for you anyway

last night i dreamt
of angels and seraph blades and the world catching fire
and it's inevitable that we're all going to die
so i really think that for love's sake, we should try,
and ill hold you in my arms til it's our time, there's no need to cry

your hand grasping mine weakly
plunging deeper in darkness' abyss
seeping through the cracks, my light can't penetrate
in utter disbelief, an unfortunate realization;

-you can't be fixed for i was merely your temporary fix not your medicine

you gave me peonies
freshly picked from the curb at the bus stop
the very first time we talked and you asked if we could be friends
and i was smiling the whole time, said "sure"

we met up in the middle of the night when i couldn't sleep,
we texted each other two hours prior
you gave me daisies from the beds planted on somebody's front lawn (which i later found out was your home);

now i admit they're my favorite from all the flower you've ever given me
even though i always teased you when you did (but of course they're all deeply appreciated)

when you confessed the feelings you've manifested for me,
and asked if i see 'us' going anywhere
i smiled and whispered in your ear "we can go anywhere we want to"

and since then you sent me more,
days with no occasion turned significant
dahlias, morning glories, jasmines, hyacinths (sometimes id surprise you as well)
lilies, chrysanthemums, tulips;

i kept them all and i reminisce all the jokes we made
about starting a business from our garden

we were lying upon rows and rows of daffodil in the middle of a starry night
hands intertwined,hearts inclined
amidst the thorns and the wilted flowers you said,
i made flowers bloom in your lungs and you picked and gave them to me; you said you wanted to spread the effervescence tickling your senses from the field in your mind everytime you thought of me (let the petals be the symbol of our love, you said)

you were my flowerboy

and now,
my soil coated nail beds bury these seedlings surrounding your grave
i threw all the flowers you gave me
dandelions, gerberas, roses, marigolds,gardenias ,baby's breaths,magnolias;
now they sleep in the ground in your eternal slumber

love im sorry
that all the flowers i planted in your lungs wilted,
the cause of your annihilation
sorry i couldn't keep them alive
sorry i couldn't keep you alive

but i know,
you'll watch over our sunflowers
and one day,
we'll be reunited and we'll be frolicking in a field of yellow

the ocean speaks to me in waves,
a contrast to its soft melodical vibrations bound in a seashell
it tells me not to drown
despite the toll of the anchor's weigh

lightning strikes and i pretend it's your arms
thunder shakes the ground reminding me of our violent ending
rain falls like the first time i felt the shattering our love beheld
find me underneath an entire sky so voracious;
im going to end up with hypothermia but it'll numb me from the absence of your arms

red car, yellow car, blue car, white car

no lucky black car, no orange to wish on

they just sat there for awhile on the edge of the rooftop, feet dangling looking at the rush of cars passing by playing the game they invented and derived from the tongue twister red lorry yellow lorry
if a black car passes by, luck will come through
spot the first green car and you pick the way you die
look for an orange car and make a wish

it was a game they played to **** time or whenever they went up the rooftop of the ballet studio they've been performing at since they were children and they were currently taking a break from swan lake rehearsals. they played the game for a little more though heather could tell that megan-meg for short- had her mind somewhere else.

"penny for your thoughts?"

meg just shook her head, tilting it across the pink skies that matched the tutus they still had on. a dreamy smile was strewn across her face

heather just watched her friend and the world surrounding them, a light gentle bubble in her stomach. she loved the building's rooftop so much; she was actually the one who first went up here and ever since then, it had been their place her place. she went here on weekends sometimes, when they didn't have rehearsals. everytime she was up here, she felt more than she was, like she was a goddess and everything below her was under a microscope like she could change anything with the click of her fingers. but most of all, in here she could freely be. it was her safe haven.

"okay spill tell me this isn't about hendrix again?"

meg smirked, looking at heather's ice blue eyes "okay you caught me" she says, traces of the english accent she had come with still evident in her voice

"i knew it. boy he's got you in such a haze. you've got a school girl crush on him" she teased, making her friend giggle nervously. meg was dating hendrix peters, a senior in the high school they were attending. theyve been seeing each other for six months now and heather knew how much of a ride it was almost as much as meg (being the first person meg ranted to everytime things occurred) the two were a match made in heaven and it was testified by the amount of gossip about them that was circulated, mostly by the senior girls who were head over heels for him and would hiss whenever their paths crossed with meg's and try to flirt with him every chance they got though he politely shook them off. he supported meg in all the possible ways, from attending to her performances on stage to supporting and showing off her stunning makeup looks and she did the same with him, coming to all his football games and enthusiastically cheering for him. they were madly in love, you could say

"it's not like that" meg scoffed, clasping both of her hands together. "ive just been thinking about the both of us and our togetherness and how we haven't done it yet and yea it's been in my mind alot" she bit her lip, a habit of nervousness she had "it's not a big deal i know, i mean, people do it all the time, people who aren't even together and it's not this eureka moment or anything of the sorts but i want it to be special at least"

"has he been asking you to do it?"

"no he doesn't really no, forcing there" meg shakes her head "but we did talk about it some time, once, thrice yea"

"someday then or tomorrow just be safe my dear friend" heather replies in a playful tone, trying to bring back the lightness of the conversation

"ugh help me practice my skills give it all to me darling, let me do you" her friend wickedly retorts, launching atop her and pinning her to the concrete, playfully mock *******

"ew dude *******'re so gross get off me" she says trying to act annoyed but she was laughing too all the while trying not to get crushed by meg's weight who was strangely heavy despite her small wiry frame

"ow babe im coming ugh" meg continues, laughing fooling around-this was how their friendship worked

"*******. now your germs are all over me" heather grunts, finally pushing meg off her and both of them just lay there for minutes, laughing too much and choking in their breaths, as the sky was bathed in watercolor above them, the sounds of the city being their soundtrack


"what's it like?" heather blurts once theyve both calmed down

"hmmm?"

"what's it like, being with him?"



meg raises her hands like she was touching the clouds, taking the question in deeply "it's....wonderful....i mean...we aren't always happy and we have loads of fights but....we manage to make it work and the whole thing drives me crazy but it's a good kind of crazy"

her answer dissolves in heather's thoughts are completely lost in it


"you know that when we first got together i told him how much i hated clichés? flowers, chocolates stuffed animals, fancy dinner dates you name it and he nodded and the first gift he gave me was a boquet out of makeup products and i laughed because it was thoughtful and he's just full of surprises but you know he did give me flowers and letters on an occasion but i didn't mind it.
i guess that's how love is, made out of all the things you love thrown in with things you don't like but you don't mind at all"

heather nodded, still deep in thought "how did you know?"


the question seemed to have an incomplete thought but meg got the gist "i just did. well i didn't know itd last but i did know that he was for me but he's not my soulmate see, you don't find soulmates, you make them. anyone could be your soulmate, soulmates are just a ****** up idea at finding love. someday you'd know kid"

heather rolled her eyes. she hated being called kid because she was reminded of how much younger she was from meg when it came to these sorts of things "don't call me that"

"you'd know" meg pats her friend in the head, lovingly still teasing her

she sits up, tying the ribbons of her satin slippers. they climb down the fire exit and join the rest of the ballet dancers, rehearsing for the rest of the day



and heather went back to the rooftop the day after, a saturday in solitude sorting out the contents of her brain, replaying the conversation she and her bestfriend had in this very place the previous day, all the while feeling a sort of feeling in her heart very familiar to nostalgia. she realized it was the feeling of longing. longing for love like meg's description of it. longing for love like the glow of stardust. longing for love
sure she had a boyfriend before but not once did she feel like how meg described love out to be with him not once did she feel like their kisses and hugs mean something and their fights never felt worth fighting for. sure she had this guy in her grade whom she passed notes and looks with and texted for days but it was never serious and he didn't see her in that certain light that makes people glow that you fall for and even if they dated it would have been too complicated.

it was a winding day for her mind to wander and she played their game as the cars went on their journey on the highway down below.

an orange car swooshes out of nowhere and she closes her eyes and makes a wish when my person comes please i hope i'll know, holding on for a beat more. after that a black car passes and her luck was aligned with the stars

a splash, the water seeping into her clothes as malia went down, floating
deep even breaths, inhale, don't let go, eyes closed



she was eight when she pricked her pinky with the thorns of a fresh white rose having accompanied her father to buy a boquet for her mother's birthday, relinquishing on the droplets of blood painting the once plain rose realizing a beat later that she was hurt; such a mindless little action, the essential kick-start of these events; a snowball effect

she was ten when she rode her bike after failing her english exam and made herself fall down by the rocks, coming home with bruised, scratched knees, her mother quickly rushing to her aide with bandages and words of comfort. it was the first time she muttered an ironical set of im fine's and acted so cold in their warm home

she was eleven when she skipped her meals for two days and didn't come out of her room,holding herself in bed as her heart rocketed, for outside the door were her parents' deliberate fighting

she was twelve when she made her first ever cut, followed by three more slices and in the same year she threw up all the strawberry crepes in her friend's bathroom on her friend's birthday party, stuffed all her packed lunches in the bin on school days. it was the year her parents finally split up and her friends picked their other friends over her and the world around her was changing and she had not even her shadow's hand to hold but the glint of sharp silver and the taste of ***** and the feeling of melancholia and loneliness and despair,these unwelcome visitors turned her only friends

she was thirteen when she blew out the thirteen rainbow colored candles on her birthday cake as the people she once knew so close now like foreign continents sang her the birthday song and told her to make a wish. little did they know that she wished to be found dead

she was fourteen when she quit the dance team because it was as if she was a robot fueled by the techno beat and electronic rhythm, she felt as empty as the quiet minutes when the song finishes and went to her first ever party, got wasted and walked around town sleeping under the bridge blanketed by stars thinking my mother did wrong at picking out my name so so wrong she never should have sugar coated it for destruction could only be suppressed til it  destroys everything, the catalyst my mother should have named me destruction for it is the only reason for every bad thing that happened to my family, my friends, my life i am the reason and she slept, the only thought stuck in her mind

she fell in love when she was fifteen and it was a lovely time if not the best in her entire existence apart from the time her family was whole and they all loved one another and her childhood was golden. and this boy taught her how to dream again and cared for her heart and she once again cared for herself, like a dam broke inside her and water flowed everywhere in delight, like the curse was broken. together they snagged stars but believed that they shone triple times more when they held hands and had children in their dreams frolicking in their kingdom

but they broke up and their empire fell apart after a year of bliss and love it wasn't love but he made her believe in love, made herself believe it was love they shared til they ran down the fun house mirrors and saw the mockery in their distorted reflections and all their differences and their sins and the rubble and he looked at her with no recognition, utter disbelief and told her she wasn't good enough and this is never going to work and this should've never started and im sorry im sorry im sorry  sounding like cruel laughter in her ears and that was that and she craved for pain and destruction again because this is just how her story goes there are no cliff hangers or plot twists and once again she found herself alone and she listened to sad songs alone, blasted them in anger and took out her lighters and her blades, burned his letters, all the love notes and the things he gave that she once cherished and found herself in a flurry of mutilation because of course this was all her fault too, she let him have her and use her, empty her out and leave and she was love's fool.

her mother always told her to always tell the truth, her father telling her to never lie but they've all been doing it all along hadn't they? because love was a lie and her parents loved each other loved her and look how that turned out and the lover she once called told her so many times that he loved her more than the sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets and he had a blackhole's force of ******* her into his lies and making her believe liars and she was no different and she had been doing all these things to hurt her because her name was destruction and she was destruction and she destroyed herself as well, punished herself for all her mistakes and this was the last punishment,

and she was seventeen when she was institutionalized after her "railroad accident" and she ended up with bruises and stitches and ***** failures alot worse than all the punishments she gave herself. so she failed at ending her life and her mother sat beside her in the hospital with stained glass eyes and mostly kept quiet because if she dared talk shed break and she couldn't do that when her daughter broke already while she stayed oblivious, drowning in her own grief all these years but malia knew what she wanted to say "how could you do this to yourself? to me? why malia? why?"
and for a year she was locked up with therapists and pills and people who held destruction within them people like her

she was eighteen and she was back at school and had decent grades enough to impress the universities and she found herself a group of friends who were okay with her past,she and her mother have started spending time together again catching up and talking things out and sometimes she'd eat out with her father and they'd hang out for a bit. it was finally a life worthy of being called a life



now she just sits there in the bottom of the swimming pool as nightfalls
there was no explanation but they've gotten it all wrong
deep breaths and hold it in the longest you can with your head underwater and then think about everything until you're close to drowning

she didn't do this all the time, just when things got bad
everyone thought that she was better, that she healed
well she did
but not completely, not for eternity

she wanted to believe that she's okay
that the meds worked and all that therapy succeeded and all that mental health days were worth it and that she was going somewhere in the future

she knew that people cared and worried about her but sometimes wanted more like a greedy void because sometimes all they did was care but they didn't know how to help, like they don't really understand but merely grasping

her mother thought she was better
her friends thought she was better
her father whom she saw once a month thought she was better
her doctors thought she was better
they didn't know about this about her compromise with self harm

she still had the scars and the burns as well as the stitches from the "accident" like tattoos on her body which may never fade. she really wanted to get past all of it but tonight she succumbs and it hurt less than what she used to do for punishment
she didn't even know what she was punishing herself for this time; she just wanted the general feeling of pain, the only thing she's ever been sure of for years like a visit from an old friend





she woke the day after with the damp floor tiles under her and the glisten of the lapping pool water beside and she was glad that she did

stone's throw and the water's current, clouds shifting in the valley of the sky above
screams could be heard near
no,
it was more of a giddy falsetto, shouts that sounded too drunk,
it was an all too familiar sound for james an all too familiar person

"look at my wings! im a fairy! im coming home to the beloved land! wait for me fairy sisters!"

he went to the clear to see if he was hallucinating he wasn't
it really was her;
sophia
nine months since they broke up; that tearful separation

for a minute he just stood there at the far end of the river watching his ex girl friend spread her arms and glide near the banks in the bridge chanting and giggling

god, did he miss her voice and her laugh

she was just like how he remembered her, her timeless free spirited soul still intact as if she took her childhood with her as she grew up, clenched tightly in her fists

the moonlight kissed her milky pale skin, bathing it in a dusty sort of blue.
she was all by herself and he could tell that something was off;
like she was only half there, like her soul vacated her vessel and she was talking to someone not there

she seemed disoriented and james wondered if she was getting bad again,

the worry kicking in as soon as he thought about all those nights,
those times they got high and drank too much and drugged themselves, injecting poison they craved into their veins, letting cigarette ashes fall to their feet, tiptoeing about as if by a marionette's force trailing along the synchronized beating of their hearts
his mind and being time travelling, to the motel room they stayed at that summer bursting with heated afternoons and passionate air, the sheets that smelled of their love making, the wooden floor they sat on as he strummed the strings of his beloved guitar, singing to his muse, the balcony where they laid in each other's arms, in awe of the world around, cicadas chirping
their adventures and misadventures where she pretended to be a superhero and had him as her sidekick the times they pretended to be spies on quest and missions-she introduced and dragged him into her colorful magical realm.
she had dog eared, coffee stained colored books piled in the trunk of her car with words and sentences blacked out, renewed into greater poetry. he could've put a bookmark between pages of one of those books, and they could've dived right into it, staying in a chasm of a sappy, lovesick, sensual poem. they could've gone on a quest of slaying monsters and stopping time for eternity. he couldve stopped them from drowning

they were looking for heaven not knowing that heaven is not a places on earth

all he did was pull down the anchor and let her sink as he kept afloat. sure their connection was real and pure. they comfortably had both of their minds and spirits bare around each other they were two kites flying in a parallel motion but the wind dragged them down hurling them recklessly

they were rarely under substances, almost never under the influence of vices. it filled them up like birthday balloons and their love was the needle that caused them to pop. it had reached the point where they were trapped in a psychedelic haze holding on to each other to stay lucid

the drugs took their toll on them resulting to violence, abusive fights
he loved her so much that he built her a house of bricks and cement to protect her from the big bad wolf not knowing that ****** and ******* turned him into a wolf and he huffed and puffed til he blew her down blew her dead

he felt his heart hit the flat line as her heart stopped for seconds in the ambulance that night he felt everything warp into everything he's ever known everything he's ever had, ever los. he felt the drugs warp into her as if she was the side effect instead of the addiction. the drugs gave them the illusion of being alive while remaining two lifeless, misguided souls.

miraculously they were able to revive her back to life but comatosed with only monitors and tubes sustaining her "life".
that night he dreamt of being with her and holding her hand for the last time as they made a pact, the promise; that they would both get better, get help, get rehab, have blood in their bloodstreams again and have normal functioning lives. they parted with a promise and a someday; that someday they'd meet again when things were right and the stars have aligned maybe, maybe. they kissed and touched in one another's presence before they parted in different directions, for freedom for the better it was a dream within reality. he knew she dreamt it too, that they were stars weaved in the same dream.

he walked closer, to where she was, still seemingly trapped in a trance mindlessly but she alarmingly tethered too close to the water, flailing her arms inviting the wind to knock her down and be part of the river, be the tides the rocks skipped. he had to do something

" sophia!" he screamed, her name echoing past the trees and the trailer houses. it was enough or her to look at him with those eyes, the same eyes that said it all before. recognition fleeted for a second before it went blank but she stopped tethering and perched herself on the bridge

he gave her a lift and took her home to the dorm she was newly staying at for the semester (it was hard to get it out of her from her drunken slurs almost like he had to pull her back from space) and on his drive back with a cigarette perched on his lips he thought about the way he laid her down, passed out and how he stayed for a bit longer, letting his fingers linger across her hair spun from golden silk and the lopsided smile that hung in her face while she slept.

he wondered most of all if she really got better, if the dark was behind her and if she was truly beyond it. he really wanted to believe the pictures that lined the walls,pictures of her smiling, with her friends, her family months after the promise.

she did look better, her skin baring a hint of plumpness and had a healthy glow replacing the sagging hollow that lived in it all those months. after the episode he witnessed (she did reek of ***** and had bloodshot eyes and was shaking not to mention the trance she was in), he didn't know if she was only good at keeping up the "better" facade. but he had his fingers crossed

he was about to let himself out, an ache growling in his stomach as they were to be separated again but he guessed it was the closest they would ever be.

"tell james i love him. always"

his head swiveled back to her and she was still tucked asleep. he could've sworn she said it, he couldn't be hearing things-after being eight months clean of substance usage.

he felt the familiar burn of the cigarette, and he threw it out of the window leaving the remnants of the nicotine inside him. he hated himself for lighting one up and keeping a half pack all this time. this was his first successful relapse and it was all because of her. like a ship tied down to an anchor;he was still tied to her, invisible ropes weighing him back to her ghost



she would always be his downfall

her patience was starting to wear thin, impatience growing as one of the pervs from the table across his eyes preying on her. she gave him the finger and her hardest glare.

where the hell are you  she typed out, texting him

be there in ten i kinda just got out of bed...sorry

she just sighed looking out the glass panes that gave a view of the busy street, letting her thoughts wander. sam was waiting for her bestfriend, noah to show up. she was going to help him find a flower shop that caters black roses. he was going to give it to jean, the girl of his dreams as he liked to call her (sam just knew how much of a cliche he was underneath; they barely had a conversation in which he didn't insert her-sam stuck up with it and listened to him, always assuring him that he's going to get her who wouldnt)

"sorry im late" he says, panting as he arrives, varsity jacket slung in his arms

"you owe me" sam says cooly, ignoring the drum pounding in her chest. he looked like he always did; and gave off the same effect to all the girls in town (he had quite a following though he didn't mind)

playfully he rolls his eyes at sam and the two walk their way into his beat up camaro (which was very good at overheating and taking too long to start)

"bet this thing would come up with its tricks again" sam started with their usual banter

"oh hell no it's got my back"

"your flat back"

"my bootiful ***"

sam scoffed "wanna bet?"

"game on" noah smugly retorts with the smug smirk on his face that showed off his angelic structures

"on three two....." sam had her fingers crossed please don't work please don't

noah tried gunning the engine a few more times, turning the key into the hole over and over again but the engine kept dying. he tried for one more time;it was a miracle that it did. he faced sam who's face turned down into a frown. "ha you owe me now"

"i owe you none" she says slumped in her seat though deep inside she was enjoying this. their friendship had alot of these immature playfulness which she usually started.

"just buy me an extra waffle cone and we're even"

"*******"

noah laughed and sam heard the lilt in his laugh that she grew fondly of. they drove off the road with only the radio to filter the silence for a while. sam started tracing patterns on the car window.

she felt something for noah and it wasn't something she expected, neither was it something she was looking for. the first time they ever interacted was in a class they both had. his eyes had that mischievous spark that day and  he wore a devilish grin-sam thought he was the perfect guy to turn into one of her casualties or better yet get his heart broken. but all they did after class that day was hangout and drive around town. sam was quite shocked with the numerous things they have in common. since then, they've meant alot to each other. although it was different for sam. sometime in their friendship she started feeling something for him, someting more than friends do .she hated it; the thought of it made her want to rev her guts out;

she was never the type to like guys or girls and fantasize about them being together or even feeling the same way. she was the type of girl who played with guys for a night (a week was her longest) whenever she felt like it. she toyed with their hearts and felt satisfied when she saw them with tears in their eyes. she felt no remorse for leaving them in the gutter. she was never vulnerable  she was a heartbreaker. she was that type of girl. but with noah it was all different, it was all new. it was like being on the other side of the spectrum

it frustrated her, all of it. most of all the fact that she couldn't do anything about it. she couldn't just steal him away from jean especially now that he stood a chance. plus, he was serious about her, sam could tell-even if she tried making moves on him, he'd leave because that wasn't how he knew her-they went so well together: her being on the cheerleading squad with her perfect friends and her perfect grades, perfect life ahead and him being the quarterback of the football team and the perfect college waiting for him, heir to his father's company someday-they were the power couple. they deserve each other sam thought bitterly. she could be one of the "perfect" girls in her school if she tried. but she didn't, didn't find the need to because why bother? she'd rather be on the outside and deal with her own company and just resurface whenever she felt like it. he had dreams;she didn't. she was just a heartbreaker, a mess.

yet she didn't want to lose noah; couldn't lose noah-it wasn't a risk she was willing to take. around him she let down the high walls she usually was encaged in and instead had vine trellises wrapping around her almost as if caressing her. it wasn't like in the movies but it was a **** cliche which she felt in gradual waves.she could hear wind chimes in the edges of her nicotine corrupted lungs whenever she was with him and none of the nails splintering against board in the emptiness of her house she felt in the dark while her sister slept soundly in the next room, none of the stale unfamiliarity of her mother working herself thin in her round the clock shifts, staggering home the next morning smelling like alcohol. she felt something other than the hollow in her stomach when she's out partying with strangers, the bass sounding too much like her heart breaking and her existence decomposing. she felt none of the filth she did when she slept with guys and let them make love with their exes through her body. she felt none of all the ugliness, heard none of the monsters' calls. noah made her feel pure. made her feel bliss. there was no irony, no catches, no waiting for the other shoe to drop in what they shared.

some days she's accepted that they'd always remain platonic, that it was better for them to stay this way. but today wasn't one of those days, for it was one where she wanted nothing but to plant her lips against his and make him tell her that he feels the same, for him to wrap her arms around her and bury her face in the crook of his neck, drown in all their memories, become the memories become an us. it wasn't love but he made her feel loved.

her daydreams were cut short when noah parked the car infront of the flower shop near the outskirts of town. she smoothed her hair as noah opened the car door for her. she felt her palms sweat, immediately telling her brain that he was really just sweet and it's jean that he likes stop spewing up hurricanes and thunders for every sweet thing he does.

"so first stop"

"i still don't get why you can't just buy her a bouquet of plain roses and spray paint it black. i'll help out yknow" she replies in her usual mocking way as they enter the shop, the floral fragrance enveloping them.

"because you gotta put all your effort and your heart to get her"

"yeah right, hey you gotta put effort in spray painting too yknow like shaking the can and making sure the roses are all covered. we can cover your heart in black paint as well if we still got any left" she replies sarcastically as they start perusing for black roses.

he rolls his eyes at his best friend, throwing one of the discarded dandelions at her direction. she picks one up and throws it at him quickly. it was only a matter of minutes til they were both on the floor laughing, sneezing in intervals, dandelions scattered around them. the florist scolded them when he saw the mess they caused and made them pay for a daisy and a petunia boquet that was haphazardly upturned in their rowdiness-no black rose in sight.

sam laughed as noah took out his wallet and paid the florist who's face was now red. she heard him mutter a sheepish apology and for a moment, she allowed or tried to let herself get lost in the fact that she and her bestfriend were spending the day together she tried to forget that she was spending the day with him to help him be with the girl that he likes.