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Jul 2021 · 43
Dear John
Climactic Poet Jul 2021
I want to live in a country house.
the smell of hay will embrace me
the smell of the grass upon the ground will comfort me
and when it rains i'll go outside
and feel the droplets of water on my face
A golden retiever will be my companion
A hot cup of fresh coffee will mark the start of my day
I will read a book
I will listen to music until dawn
I will think about what could have been
but right before I close my eyes
I'll be happy.
and content.

By myself but not alone.
Happy to go solo.
What does it mean to be happy? Dear John by Nicholas Sparks reminds me of this mood. I miss reading a good book. I miss the Nicholas Sparks novels haha
Feb 2021 · 73
Green is the color
Climactic Poet Feb 2021
green is the color of evil in your eyes
green was your mind when you touched another's ***
green is the color of my mother's envy
green is the color of my disgust.

they say green is the color of a brand new start
"green means go"
"green means life."

now i don't know what green stands for anymore.
sometimes infidelity comes unannounced
Feb 2021 · 156
midas
Climactic Poet Feb 2021
my heart is undeserving
of your love for me
my soul it's dark with stories
this world can never hear.

it's not that I don't like you
it's not that I don't care
but I love you so, I can't hurt you.
So I am staying away.

your life's so multicolored
your laugh is so contagious
to me you are so precious
do me a favor, please stay away.

everything I touch I hurt
everyone I love are broken
i don't want you to be one of them
so I will love you from afar.

you do not really have to worry
i've been on this journey alone
i've been okay so i can promise
i will be fine, on my own.

my heart's so undeserving
of your love for me.
you are my everything
so do me favor, please stay away.
i love you with all my heart, but i will only bring you pain.
Feb 2021 · 69
kiss
Climactic Poet Feb 2021
a smooch on the cheek
a bite on the lip
the warmth of your tongue
your eyes I can't resist.

Your eyes are talking
your hands are moving
my body is warm
my heart is beating
Feb 2021 · 59
Metaphor
Climactic Poet Feb 2021
You’re a metaphor
For everything I have ever wanted
But never had
For kevin
Jan 2021 · 902
Blue is the color
Climactic Poet Jan 2021
Blue is the color of my pain
Blue is the color of life on my veins.
Blue are his eyes that closed before he died
Blue was how I felt when he left me that night

Blue in the dark
Blue even at day
Blue that turns bright sunrise
to clouds of gray

Blue felt cold
Like a wound that never heals
Blue is the reminder that I am still here.

Blue is the color of his favorite shirt
Blue like the water where he drowned while at work.
Blue was the color of my face when I heard.
That he was gone.
That he was hurt.
That he was blue.

Blue is the color...
Death sometimes comes unannounced.
Jan 2021 · 389
She is trying
Climactic Poet Jan 2021
She is the trying.  
Her hands are working
Her mind is toiling.
Her heart is so full of all the good things.

All she wants is to be loved,
to be accepted and to be heard.
She does not plan to get rich quick.
She just needs to be appreciated
for all that she did.

Unfortunately for her,
a "thank you" is expensive
the price tag says "her sanity"
She is torn, at the brink
of losing her mind
if only she could get that coveted "thanks"

All her life she lived a lie.
She thought if she didn't cry
they will smile.

All she wanted was a friend.
To be happy and content.
To be seen and heard,
To be cared for and not to be hurt.

Unfortunately for her,
this sad little miss.
even to her own family
all she does are amiss.

She wonders what she did wrong
each day of her life
She wants it to end so bad
but she fails at each try.
Jan 2021 · 75
The Race
Climactic Poet Jan 2021
Monday.
Tuesday.
All the way to Sunday.

Work.
Work.
and no play.

Do this. Do that.
Then repeat.

Eat.Work.
then try to sleep.

Race against time.
Race against others.
Race against the pace
of the world's front runners.

You ****.
You're slow.
You're not good enough.

Look at him.
Look at her.
Look around you.
You're alone.

You'll die sad.
You'll die mad.
It's a crazy world, true that.

If you won't get a husband
you'll die an old hag.
*******.
Apr 2020 · 112
puta
Climactic Poet Apr 2020
There are only two things that I want to say to you:
Number One.
I hate you.
Number Two.
All the love I used to think I had for you are all gone.
Feb 2020 · 109
for keeps
Climactic Poet Feb 2020
if i’d be brutally honest
i’m keeping you only because it’s convenient
you are the logical choice
you keep me sane
you taught me how to fake a smile

you are the game i play while i wait for the next bus ride
the song i sing to pass the time
the message in a bottle i never hope to read
the unused comforter tucked away as i sleep

you make my day mundane but not sad
you don’t make me giddy but at least you don’t make me mad
i don’t hate you, i don’t love you and you’re okay with that
i think i’m keeping you cause mum says you’re a fine lad

i hate to be honest
but it’s the hard truth
i’m keeping you because i think i should
not because of love, not because i care
but because of loneliness i am scared

you are the extra pillow in my bed
the movie credits towards the end
you are the newsletter that i never read
and the old teapot i keep though i never really liked tea

you keep me company
and that is good enough for me
Dec 2019 · 779
Too late
Climactic Poet Dec 2019
Why come now?
When the show is over?
When the curtains are closed?

My love, it’s too late.
I don’t feel anything for you anymore
In fact
I don’t feel anymore
#DearD
Dec 2019 · 202
Please
Climactic Poet Dec 2019
Don’t hold back
Nov 2019 · 268
Alone
Climactic Poet Nov 2019
Alone
One word.
An adjective.
A state of mind.
A state of being.
A
Oct 2019 · 250
Chances
Climactic Poet Oct 2019
Five times we could have worked
and that one time we did not take the chance.
#DearD
Jun 2019 · 112
forbidden
Climactic Poet Jun 2019
Unfortunate soul,
My unfortunate soul.
How can this happen to me?
I seldom love
I seldom live
I seldom feel butterflies in my belly.

Yet the single time,
The only time I did
Was when I was with you.
With you, a forbidden soul

The forbidden apple
in the Garden of Eden.

Why?
I could fall in love
With anyone in this whole, wide, wild world
But why did I fall in love with you?

It’s driving me crazy
That I can’t be with you.
It’s making me mad
To know that it’s hopeless.

I can already see them stare
I can already hear them talk
I can already see their lips
Judge you and me.

And it hasn’t even happened yet.

I love you
I say silently
I love you
I tell you in my head.

My poor, unfortunate soul
Could never say it out loud.
I can never say it.
You can never hear it.

And so I hold so dear
Those moments
Which to you are meaningless
But to me,
Mean everything.

I hold on to the
Faint, weak smile,
The awkward space between us,
The long pauses,
The unspoken air of respect.

I hold on to the little
Moments
That make you fragile
That make me fragile.

How can I unlove you?
An unfortunate, forbidden soul.
I am so in love with you. I can imagine having a life with you.
Apr 2019 · 123
Dear you,
Climactic Poet Apr 2019
Dear you,
maybe I should write you a letter.
A long, long letter.
You know, to get you out of my system.

Dear you,
I cannot express how much I miss you.
I ache a lot just by thinking of you.
Our relationship wasn’t perfect
But every second I spent loving you
Was all worth it.

Dear you,
She fills your life now.
You say she loves you more than I ever could
Babe, maybe you’re right.
Or maybe you just chose to open your heart to her and not to me.

But it’s okay.
I just want you to know that I did my best for you
I want you to know that I fought hard for you.
Hard.

Dear you,
I’m sorry if all I wanted was to be loved back.
I must have been so selfish.
I realized that it’s not enough that I love.
I should learn to realize when the person I love does not want my love.

Dear you,
Thank you for at least thinking that I’m your safe space.
Know that I will always be here for you.
I hope you fight all the demons
That haunt you at night
And even I’m not there,
I hope that you find peace
Wherever you are.

I miss you terribly
I loved you like crazy.

I just want you to be happy.
For Kit.
Apr 2019 · 256
Fantasy
Climactic Poet Apr 2019
I live in a world where it’s okay to be with you.
I roam in a universe where you love me too
I’m in a dimension where I matter to you.

I wish you were here too.
For Kit.
Apr 2019 · 1.0k
Notice me
Climactic Poet Apr 2019
You've been treating me like a joke.
Yet like a joke, I can make you laugh
and that's good enough for me.

That split-second of attention,
That drop of tear,
That small chuckle at the end of a call.
Those small things that meant nothing to you
Mean all the world to me.

You wait for me to build you up
When she knocks you down.
You talk to me to feel better
Knowing that there is someone in the world
more miserable than you.

All I want is to hear your voice.
All I want is to know your fears.
All I want is to make you happy.
But if your happiness means pain to me,
then that's still good enough for me.

At the end of the day I tried
even when there's no use in trying.
I loved
Even when you stopped receiving.
I cared
Even when you didn't.

I just wish you would notice me
and know that I did everything
that I could have done
to save you.

And all I want
Is for you to notice me.
For Kit.
Jul 2018 · 692
Virtual
Climactic Poet Jul 2018
This is crazy.
Very. very. crazy.

I am here in front of a universe we created
you and I.
Nobody else.

I am soaking in this virtual reality
that knows no bounds
and respects no timezones.

I wake up everyday
looking forward to talk to you
and I sleep at night
seeing you in my dreams.
Climactic Poet Jan 2018
Here I am again
In a cycle of guessing game
"He loves me. He loves me not" I say
as I rip a flower apart
petal by petal
until it is no more.

I do this
not because I want to
but because I can.

It's the closest thing I have
to an answer.
I ask a flower
every now and then.
I pray for answers
but no one ever responds.

He loves me. He loves me not.
Over and over
like a religious mantra
like an entrancing spell
like a prayer
like a song
like a sonata in a silent night

I reach the last few petals.
My words slur.
My breath wastes away.
I close my eyes.
And then
Slowly, I yank the petals one by one.

"He loves me."
"He loves me not."
"He loves me."
"He loves me not."
"He loves me."
I smile.

But I realized,
There is one last petal left hanging,
almost wilted.
I know what it means.

"He loves me not."
I bow my head
as if to say a prayer

I close my eyes.
I breathe
I smell what's left of the flower

A fragile stem
Weak leaves
Hard thorns.

I let go.
To D.
Sep 2017 · 305
The phase after moving on
Climactic Poet Sep 2017
I am running out of reasons
All the reason to write
I am losing all the memories
that keep me up at night

Have I moved on?
Did I let go?
Or
Did time simply pass?

I don't know.

I don't think of you as often
In fact, I don't think of anyone at all.
I don't see you in my dreams
No, I don't dream anymore.

I say "I love you"
more often than I pray
It saddens me that I say it
with no address or a name.

I whisper it to the wind
"I love you."
A phrase so familiar
yet so far from the truth.

I don't know why I say it.
I have no one to say it to.
I'm overwhelmed at how long it has been
Someone said it to me too.

Love has been so foreign
to this troubled heart
In the open it is calm
truth is, it's tearing me apart

I'm losing all the memories
that keep me up at night.
Even in my dreams,
anyone is out of sight.

I thought I have moved on.
In fact, I really have.
It's just that I miss the feeling
of having someone to ache for.

I miss having all the reasons
All the reasons in the world.
I miss saying "I love you."
As much as I miss hearing these words.

I don't cry myself to sleep.
I want to, but I cannot cry
I don't have any reason
To feel so sad at night.

I used to remember how we were
Before I go to sleep
I used to write you letters
Then after, I delete.

Now I don't have the reasons
to write to you at all.
Cause now I can't remember
how we were before.

I wish I could remember
How your lips felt on my skin
But even that I can't remember
I'm losing everything.

At least I can hold on to
our pictures from the past
Where all I see are strangers
so in love.

I wish I can remember
how your gaze felt.
Like how you looked at me
in the picture that I kept.

Now when I look at us,
And all the photos that I kept,
I feel nothing.
None at all.

I am so scared of this phase.
This phase after moving on.
It's even more heartbreaking
than any break-up song.

I thought I couldn't get
any lonelier than when you left
I did not know that indifference
Makes all the difference.

"I love you."
"I miss you."
"I care for you."
I don't know you.
They say one loves and one moves on. But it does not stop at moving on.
May 2017 · 233
Fear
Climactic Poet May 2017

Fear is a familiar feeling.
It has been with us for ages:
consuming us like wildfire.
devouring our dreams, wishes and aspirations.

Fear is something we will never understand.
No matter how prepared we are,
we will crumble when fear comes.
No matter how strong we are,
we will wither before fear.

Fear is timeless.
It never chooses a time, or place.
Fear just comes.

Fear has no reason.
You don't have to be happy or sad for fear to come.
You don't have to be worried or calm for fear to come.

Fear is unjust.
This is the most salient quality of fear.
It arrives at a moment when you feel like everything is finally alright.

Fear is also fair.
Yes, even when it is unjust, it is fair.
It is fair because it keeps us alive.
It is a flashing signal for when we are about to break down.

Fear is comforting.
It is comforting because it is what makes us human.
Fear makes us understand that life is a battlefield, not a walk in a park.

Fear is not all bad.
This feeling *****
but on a bad day,
it's all we've got.

And know that...
it is okay to surrender
to Fear.
Apr 2017 · 568
No Ordinary Mother
Climactic Poet Apr 2017
I am a mother.
I am no ordinary mother.
I have an overwhelming number of daughters
they fill as far as your eyes can see.

I have countless sons.
They all came from me.

I am the wealthiest mother, you see.
I have the largest pearls stored somewhere
beneath me.

Gold, diamonds, rubies?
I have them hidden somehere you can't find.

You must think I am the most beautiful woman
to have a billion children.

Unfortunately,
I can't say the same.

My children have pulled my hair
My once luscious green hair.

My children infiltrated my blood.
My once crystal clear blood.

My children have grown wise.
So they left me to die.

They haven't forgotten me though.
They remember me when they feel like they need to be beautiful
They dig up my diamonds, they collect my pearls.
And after they are done digging,
they will leave me to crumble down

They remember me when they need a house.
They would get my trees, and everything they can find.
After chopping through, they will leave my balding head behind.

Sometimes I wonder if my children will still remember me
when I have nothing left to give.

My name is Earth.
I am a mother.
I am no ordinary mother.
I am no ordinary Mother Earth.
I am no ordinary mother...
until
I won't be a mother anymore.
Mar 2017 · 391
Hatespeech
Climactic Poet Mar 2017
You.
Are a condescending,
lying,
cheating,
*******.

And
I wish I will never
ever
end up
anywhere close
to who you are

You
think you deserve
all the love in the world
because you did
a little good.

You don't.

It's not
enough that you
give me something
to justify the way
you take all
that is mine.

You
are my father.
but to me,
you are nothing.

You
lost your worth
the day you did not choose me
you did not choose us.

You
chose to throw
twenty-five years away
for a woman
you met on the street
on Sunday.

I
hate you.
I don't know
how you wake up
in the morning
kissing my mother
in the cheek.
When you know
by dark
you kiss another woman's
lips.

You
are worse than Judah
who killed himself
after betraying Jesus.

I
caught you.
but you chose
to be better
at hiding.

I hope you die.

You don't deserve
to be loved.

*******,
dad.
So my dad is cheating on my mom, whose father is terminally ill. There's no one else in the household who knows except me. My dad knew I found out, but he never came clean. This means he chose to let me be in the position to save his ***.I hate him. I want to tell my mother but I don't think she can handle losing two men in her life in just one year.

To all the cheating men and fathers: Please note that there are people like me who are affected in this situation. I want to **** myself sometimes, but I think about my younger siblings when this blows up.
Mar 2017 · 212
Perfect Night
Climactic Poet Mar 2017
The night is cold
But my tea is still hot
The sheets are soft
My toes are frozen

The world outside
Is buzzing around
But I'm right here
Lying in bed

With a good book
resting in my palms
And the rustling leaves
calling my name.

I take a sip from my cup
One less page to read for the night
I bury myself under the sheets
and finally, I sleep in peace.
This is how I put myself to bed every night
Climactic Poet Mar 2017
My utter frustration
lies with you,

the child I will never have...

You may come to life,
But I bet you will not.

Either way,
I would like you to understand why
So you won't have to ask me
haunt me
coerce me
force me
hurt me
lambast me.

I want you to understand.
I am not having you,
not because I don't love you.

I actually am not having you
because I do.

You see, honey.
I can never be a mother.
I want to be
but I just can't.

I cannot put you through
the same emotional turmoil
that made me decide
not to have you in the first place.

I cannot bear the idea
of raising you in the wrong way
because I have no idea what the right way is.

I cannot let you suffer
the same wounds that I had
as I tried to survive this life.

I cannot let you live.

I cannot
because if I do,
you would hate me so much
you won't even let me lick your wounds
the wounds I would have probably given you.

So honey,
I hope you understand.
I love you too much to let you go through me.
I am a wreck and I know it.

I am also sorry.
Sorry for not giving you a chance.
to live.
to breathe.
to run.
to play.

to live.

Your mommy,
your nonexistent mommy,
has gone so much pain,
heard so much bad words
it's all overflowing
from her mouth.

And honey,
she doesn't wanna let you hear them.
she will never let you hear them.

Don't worry, my baby.
No matter how much I wish to have you here.
I'll fight it.

To save you.
From me.

Because I love you.
This is my message to the child I will never have
Climactic Poet Mar 2017
You.
Of all people,
should understand me.

You.
Of all people
should know that I am weak

But
That is how you play the game
You poke at my weaknesses
You point out my mistakes

And
Though you know I'll crash and burn

Still
You choose to do the same.

But
To you who weighs me down,
I have no words to say.

Since
I see past your hurtful words

I
Find pain behind your rage

So
I will try to understand

I
Will trust that you will find peace

I
Will wait until you see me through

Because
That is the only thing left to do
Dec 2016 · 341
Rust
Climactic Poet Dec 2016
Maybe I have matured,
maybe I have outgrown writing stories,
maybe I have buried even the thought of creative writing
beneath the disgusting idea of education
- so utilitarian, and functional.

I grieve the loss of creativity in my head.
I used to think that it will always be around the corner,
that these skills will probably stick around.
Unfortunately, I have grown enough to realize that incrementally,
what little skills of mine shall soon leave my feeble body
before I even know it,
simply because I have forgotten to use them altogether.

I don't know where to begin from here.
I don't even know what to write next.
Sadly, I don't even know what to write for my fictional characters,
and just like me,
they are stuck in a havoc of confusion and unfinished stories.
Just like me,
they are lost in a fictitious land where there's no way forward
Just like me,
my stories stare at the vast darkness and wonder...
When?
Why?

And just like this poem...
#EternallyUnfinished
Nov 2016 · 410
Perso
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
I don't fit in anywhere.
Not with random people,
Not with acquaintances,
Heck.
Not even with my family

However,
It's sick, and yet comforting
that I fit with you.

No matter how many times
you have ruined me

I still fit into you.

It's plain and bland but
just by thinking of you,
I survive.
No. I don't thrive
But at least I survive.

I hate how you know me so well
that even when we're not together anymore
You know my heart is yours.
Still yours.

I hate that you're happy.
I hate that you're happy without me.
I hate that you now fit somewhere.
Somewhere I will never belong.
It's just as if you have excluded me on purpose

I hate that no matter how hard I try
I will never fit into you again.

But that's okay.
Maybe it's even for the best.
It's humiliating
It's agonising
But hey...

You can come back to me
Whenever you feel like
You don't fit in anymore.
Perso means "lost" in Italian
Nov 2016 · 277
Ma Fale
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
How can you write about love
if you've never loved before?

How can you write about pain
if you've never been bruised?

Maybe real pain is better than
loneliness.

Maybe real wounds are better than
fake burns and made-up stories
of a love you never had.
Ma Fale means "My Fault" in Italian. It's my fault I did not choose to take risks, and my fault I did not try to fall in love.
Nov 2016 · 258
Regret
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
I could have
if you have
let me.

I should have
but you won't let me.

It's too late.
I can, but I may not.
Nov 2016 · 546
6,521 Miles
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
6,521 miles.

"Isn't so bad
When our hearts
are not even a millimeter far"

Those words I uttered
when you hopped on that train.

6,521 miles.

It's unbelievably far.
but I believe in us
more than I believe in distance.

I believed in us.

But...

6,521 miles

felt farther and farther
as days went longer

And no, it wasn't the distance
that stretched before us
It was our love that was too small
It was our patience that was too short
It was our faith that was too little

That failed us.

6,521 miles and...

"I miss you"
"I miss you"
"I miss you"
"Miss you"
"Miss you"
"Miss you"

You miss

You missed.
You missed my birthday.
I missed Christmas
You missed Thanksgiving
I missed the New Year's Eve.
You missed out on our favorite show
I missed out on your big days.

We missed out.
We ****** up.

6,521 miles after...

We're no more.

And now, even when we're inches apart
I feel like you're 6,521 miles away from me.

You still held my hand,
and still said "Goodbye."
And still you kissed my cheek.
And you hopped on the train

6,521 miles...

...wasn't so bad.
Nov 2016 · 444
Dolore
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
We say it's better to feel the pain than be numb,
but more often than not, we wish to numb the pain.
Dolore
Nov 2016 · 270
Verita
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
To feel or not to feel?
is a question I ask myself everyday.

Am I a ghost in disguise,
or am I reality in a made up world?

I can touch, but do I feel?
I can look, but do I see?
I can hear, but do I listen?

Am I?
Mia vita non ha verita.
Nov 2016 · 865
Drifted
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
I don't know if I should start with how we fell apart
or how we fell in love,
but whichever way it goes,
we know we fell out of love.

I'm not sure if I should start saying "Sorry"
or defend my past mistakes
but whatever happened in the past
we broke up anyway.

I know I was at fault,
I know you were too,
We say we were both just young
Still, I lost you.

I wish rules did not exist in love
but even when we say there are no rules, there are.
because if there were none,
I would have you in my arms right now

But it ***** how we always say "We're humans"
with emotions,
with feelings,
with a story,
and even when we know we still love,
we choose not to.
we pretend not to.
because the rule book says we can't

So we show up at parties
with our new "love"
and feel remorse for ourselves
as soon as we hit the bed at night
because she should have been me
and he should have been you
It should have been us.

but we choose not to.
we pretend not to.

despite how we feel

because our pride is bigger than our love.
I guess sometimes it's safe to say...

We might have never been in love
at all.
How many people today know who they love and why they love but choose not to love, just because?
Nov 2016 · 312
Nosedive
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
Nosedive

I used to think that my brilliance equates that of the sun-
that when people see me, they see light, day, sunshine,
they find peace.

As a child, I deemed myself as the best fit,
the cream of the crop, the joy of the world,
until I found myself wallowing in feigned glory

I realised that there were million other suns around me,
basking in “reflected glory”,
thinking they are the salt and light of today.

Truly, people are more brilliant that we think they are
but not as brilliant as they think they are
I wrote this with reference to the Black Mirror's Nosedive episode.
Nov 2016 · 414
Aspetta
Climactic Poet Nov 2016
You have always been
There has never been

anyone

but you.

And yet it seems like I am competing
with the world,
with your life’s pace
with a dozen other hers
to whom I could never compare

and yet to me,
even when you choose not to fight,
you always win.
Always.

I have always been there
I still am
I will be here
waiting
painstakingly,
for the clock to move
and until then
I will still be here.

I cannot count how many times I have already
consoled you from the deepest pains,
and truly, with every word I say,
I hurt as much.

I hurt because I hurt for you,
I hurt because of you
but  most of all,
I hurt because you were never true.

It’s quite ironic that I am still waiting for you
Even when I know “you” will never come
I hope this faith lives on

or else…
#Aspetta
# Italia # Waiting
Sep 2015 · 300
She
Climactic Poet Sep 2015
She
She stares at me. Blankly. Coldly. And I wish I did not know what she sees. I wish I could not but it is written all over her face.

I wish I had not caused her pain because it’s painful for me to know at a glance that she is in pain. Because of me.

I wish I had known that she was just there to show her love. A love that I have neglected for so long. I wish I could go back in time and tell her how much I have appreciated her all through these years. I wish I could tell her what life is like with the possibility of losing her.

I wish she already knows but she does not because I never care to show. I wish she knows I love her even when I hate her. I wish she knows, but she does not because I never care to show.

I know she understands because if had not she would not wake up in the morning to tell me to clean the house because she was too tired last night laundering my clothes, my underwear, and yet she has to wake up the next morning to cook my food.

I wish I were not so selfish. I wish I saw how she would work herself to her bones despite her brittle age, just so as I can “study” for an upcoming quiz. I wish I saw how she juggled her way through all the chores. I wish I knew her like she knew me.

I wish I gave attention to her like she gave attention to me. I wish I showered her with so much encouraging words the way she has showed me with words of praise at my mediocrity. I wish I could. I wish I did. I wish I showed her how much I am proud of her the way she prays for me and tells me how proud she is for my broken achievements.

I wish I could paint a beautiful canvass of “perceived reality” in her face, so that she will only see beauty and not the pain. I wish I could offer my arms to her when she needed me the most. I wish I had. I wish I can.

I come home tired from my own business without even thinking what she has gone through, or how many times has she cried. I wish I could hug her like I have always had when I was a little girl who saw her as my world, my hero, my only shelter. I wish I could just go back in time and erase all the pain I have caused her.

I wish I did not know what her mannerisms meant, but sadly, we have been together too long that I would know what she does when a strand of hair falls down her face. She does not tuck it to her ear, or plays with it with her fingers. She can stand leaving the hair alone dangling beneath her cheek.

She’s contented with being with me for a couple of hours, even if it would be so tiring for her. She would buy me clothes, and I got used to the custom of rejecting what she buys because I was too busy thinking of me, myself and I. She thinks of me when I don’t think of her. She prays for me, even when I do not pray. She’s concerned for me even when I do not give **** about her stuff. She looks at me like I’m a fragile china.

And it’s sad how I have disregarded her all these years… It’s sad how I have let her be old and in pain. I have grown twenty years ripe and still I act like the 2 year old me.  I w ish I could, I wish I can. I wish I could show my love for my mom.

— The End —