I've gotten so used to isolation
that a deserted island is home

the sea of despair is a continuous whirlpool of void
emptiness is the sun
and the sky is crying for me

eyes tired
then eyes closed
and the mind took over

for one who exists behind the shadows,
how mundane it is to dream, to wish,
that someday
someone will get lost
in my forgotten shore

like a siren without a voice
her life is a soft hum
a melancholic peace
she's not out to lure but to give rest

thousands of fishermen have kissed her lips and fleeted

and every time
before they go, she hums a lullaby of happiness
that it's okay and you could leave her
but when the ship is a tiny blip in the ocean
she opens her mouth

and sings.

sobrang lungkot ko na it's unbearable

1.) I hate that you ruined my chance to be a kid. You stole my childhood and teenage years, you know? We all it isn't like the movies, but I never even got a chance to try. You made me scream so quietly that when I couldn't shush you anymore it became like thunderclap, deafening anyone close. I  pushed people so far away that they became islands to me, and I couldn't swim. That, or I wanted them to love me so badly that I squeezed them into oblivion and suffocated them with my demons.

2.) I hate that I felt unloved because of you. I could have been loved, you know? It wasn't like I was a *****. There were boys that wanted me, even ones I wanted too. But you made me this tumultuous fire that too many lovers saw only as a sultry, exciting spark until it completely engulfed them, burning them to a crisp. I spent my young love years unloved and assuming any flaw was a cause for expulsion, and any affection was a sign of destiny. They both were neither.

3.) I hate that you made me feel lonely. You kept me in a tower, and fed me just enough so I wouldn't die. You gave me this grand craft that, previously, I could barely use except to stare at blank computer screens and wished my fingers could pour out the things in my head. You gave me this gift that kept me breathing, but also kept me lonely. If I didn't know how to write so well to myself, maybe I would have screamed enough for somebody to listen.

4.) I hate that you stole my intelligence. I might be brilliant. I couldn't even think about that, was convinced it was a fluke that I was so smart when I was little. But now that you've sorted out yourself, I can feel it re-emerging and I feel so sick knowing how much better I could have been; what I could've done. The years wasted, only able to use that brilliance to keep myself from cutting my own cord.

5.) I hate that you make me a lot to handle. You make me bubble with thoughts and words and sometimes, a lot of times, it overwhelms people. I'm a tornado, a twister, in constant, energetic motion. Not many people can keep up with me, and it makes me lonely. You made me lonely because no one wanted to stay; that or they couldn't. Its hard when a new person all the time.

6.) I hate that you made me so strong. I've been on the brink of death, destruction, ruin, pain, and yet I've always come back. For the severity of the things in my head that storm themselves around, I'm an anomaly. I spend half of an intake therapy session having to go into gory details of my inner workings, because without a record its not as easy for them to see me. Yet I never fall, no matter how much sometimes I wish I would. Guess, just like you, its in my synapses.

7.) I hate that you've alienated me from my family. They are nothing like me, and they don't understand me. Very few of them try, even less sympathize. Many call it a phase. Like my entire existence the past couple years is just a new level of the teenage rebellion I never had. I now know what kind of people they are, what kind of people they are capable of being. Their jokes and energy aren't worth the words they inflict behind closed doors. No family should question me on everything. No family should call my life a phase. No family should think the person I love most isn't worth it because they haven't met him.  No family should ask me to hide who I am because its better that way. I don't regret walking away. I regret having to.

8.) I hate that you make my relationship harder. I feel things too hard, and I know that's my issue. But it being such a core part of my system makes it hard for me to integrate files. We're learning, and growing, like we always do. I can't help but smile at how he motions just like I do. He's the only one I've ever met who keeps up with me. Everyone else I've always left behind, one way or another. Though hard, you do make my relationship stronger.

9.) I hate that I love parts of you, because they're my best parts. I'm already smart, but you make creativity a shade of bold that I can't even comprehend. Its hard to share with my peers when they stare at me like I'm an odd anomaly. You make me an anomaly, but as a writer, a creator, an artist, its remarkable. I can write about people like no one else I know can. I can write about emotional experiences I've never felt, but you've helped me see. If I can feel a glimmer, of that emotion, I can understand depths I've never felt. You've made teachers think I was abused, beaten, and much more, even when I wasn't. But I could feel it. My devotion to my art makes that pain a worth and I hate that.

10.) What I hate the most, though, is that I don't hate you. You have made me who I am. I wouldn't quit you, even if I had the choice. You make everything harder, and you make me scream, and you make me work. But you also help me be brilliant, and help me be understanding, and help me shine. You help me love and grow and breathe, even when you're crushing my lungs. Its maddening and barely makes sense, but I know that much. I know that no matter how angry, upset, shameful, any negative emotion, that behind it, that's not my strongest feeling towards you. My strongest is that you are one of my favorite things about me. I hate that people can call me crazy because of you, but I accept it because I'm my happiest crazy. I'm my happiest with you.

In the genesis of the last breath’s eulogy, the first word was sorrow.
Pain was a cry of an infant;
a cry that you cannot reason with,
a cry that will not stop until the hungry little mouth is fed.
the only difference was that the grief was unbearable because it was full.
It’s been fed with words as warm as a fresh bottle of milk
and with touches as comforting as a mother’s lullaby.

it was like a tired child, lulled by the softness of his blanket
only to have it taken away from him a few peaceful sighs after the lashes finally touched the flushed cheeks
how cruel it is to deprive a child
of solitude
when the beats of his pulse are not enough to understand why this world is red in tooth and claw.
and when he is oblivious to the fact that his trust is earned, not demanded.

but after a millennium's worth of tears
and what seemed to be a continuous cycle of rumpled sheets and sleepless nights,
the eulogy became an ode
the ache was a coated hunger
and the child learned to sleep alone.

turns out that my body doesn't need another to rest,
my bed is an ocean of peace, I just need to remove the clutters of you from it.

Pagpasensyahan mo na ko,
hindi ako sanay sa mga yakap at lambing
bago kita makilala, nakakahiya mang aminin
ang pagdampi ng mga labi at ang init ng mga yapos
ay alam ko lamang sa salita, sa bawat paglipat ko sa panibagong pahina ng mga aklat kong minamahal.

Mas masarap pala sa totoong buhay.
Dahil konkreto ka,
ang iyong mga mata ay hindi lamang habi ng aking kaisipan
at ang iyong mga salita ay hindi akin.

Totoo ka.
Masarap pala sa pakiramdam ang paglapat ng dalawang katawan,
dahil kahit kailan hindi ako naging komportable sa paglubog ng kama sa aking likudan
alam ko din na ayoko ng bigat ng ibang braso sa aking baywang
pero noong unang gabi na nakapatong ang ating mga ulo sa iisang unan
at ako’y tila bihag sa braso **** kulungan
Napatanong ako sa aking sarili “Ganito ba ang tahanan?”

Pero mahirap din kapag nakatikim ka ng ginhawa,
nakalimutan ko na tayo nga pala’y dalawa
at ito ay hindi lamang para sa akin.
Ang kalayaang kong pumili ay taglay mo din
Hindi mo nga pala utang ang mga sagot sa mga tanong na bumabagabag sa akin
at malaya ka.
Malaya kang tanggalin ang pagkabuhol ng ating mga daliri
Dahil hindi iisa ang ating mga kamay
at hindi din tayo iisa ng kaisipan.

Posible nga pala na magkaiba ang bilis ng daloy ng dugo at ritimo ng bawat tibok

Kaya naiintindihan ko at pagpasensyahan mo ako.
Masyado lang akong uhaw sa pagmamahal.
Sa tagal na panahon na pinagkait ko sa sarili ko,
sa pamamagitan mo, kaya ko nang tumingin sa salamin
at hindi makaramdam ng galit na sa tuwing umaga
meron pa ding hininga,
meron pa ding pagtaas at pagbaba ng dibdib.

Masarap palang huminga at ayoko lang ng tikim.

Nung isang gabi tinanong mo ko
“Bakit mo ko mahal?”
sa totoo lang hindi ko din alam.
puno ako ng damdamin pero ayoko sa emosyon
ayoko sa sakit
ayoko sa mahal.

ayoko na mahal kita.
ayoko din na hinahanap-hanap ko ang mga bisig mo.
sana’y akong mag-isa, akin lang ang sarili ko.

Itong kakapiranggot na pagpapahalaga sa puso ko ay para sakin lang.
bakit ko ibibigay sayo na mapagdamot sa pagmamahal?
isa ka ding takot sa pag-ibig,
takot magpapasok,
takot magbigay dahil walang kasiguraduhan kung maibabalik.
nalalasahan ko sa aking dila ang lungkot tuwing tumitingin ako sa iyong mga mata.

Tuwing nasisilayan ko ang iyong anyo, pakiramdam ko ay kilala kita.
hindi ko alam ang pangalan ng mga mahal mo
at hindi ko alam ang mga bagay na mahalaga sayo,
pero kilala ko ang pagpanglaw ng ilaw sa bawat kurap ng iyong mga mata,
kilala ko ang unti-unti **** pagkaubos.
Isa kang imahe na pinta ng sakit at lungkot at pangungulila
napakadilim ngunit napakaganda.


Kilala kita.
Nakikita kita sa salamin kapag nakakalimutan ko kung ano na ako sa aking paningin.

Siguro alam ko na pala kung bakit kita mahal.
Kung bakit kita gusto mahalin.

Ang yumi mo ay hindi bagay sa dilim.
Kailangan mo ng saya,
ng halaga.

Madilim din ang mga ulap sa aking mga mata
sinta,
pero malinaw pa ang aking paningin
at alam ko kung anong kintad ng kulay ang bagay sayo.

Let's be honest here,
you might be hurt now or your feelings might borderline on hate
but when he texts you next monday, when people are starting to get ready for bed
you will answer his 'wanna come over?'
with 'sure' and 'im on my way'
and it would be okay, because baby girl you need this
you need something to look forward to,
so that tomorrow wouldn't seem like a bad idea and to make light a little more bearable.

But after please,
do not long to stay,
do not long to sleep on his bed or to have his arms wrapped around you,
and do not steal kisses from him after *******
because it would make you hope for something definite.
For him you will always just be a bed warmer
your number on his phone would never have a name
he might burn you with his kisses
but behind those lips is lust and nothing more

if you hope sweet girl your heart will be vulnerable to his charming smiles and his comforting scent
you will fall over the same dark cliff
with the same cold ground catching you

love, your wounds are still fresh
your bones are yet to heal
he is not a replacement
he's just something you need
to remove the remaining traces of the past from your skin

please do not give another man power over you

instead gather your abandoned clothes on his floor and walk straight to his door and thank him, you might not be coming back next time.