confused.
i'm sorry but i'm confused.
being sober is a bad idea now. i need the alcohol to take over me because my tears won't do its job anymore.

tangina lasingin niyo ako. lasingin nyo ako sa dagat-dagatang alak. lunurin niyo ako sa ideyang alak ang makakapagpalaya sa mga naiisip kong nakakulong sa kaibuturan ng utak ko. hindi na kaya ilabas sa luha sapagkat natuto na sila magtago ulit.

why does it feel like i'm playing with fire? why do i feel the heaviness, the pain, the burn? why am i still staying? why am i still around?

nasa iyo na. buong-puso kong ibinigay sayo ang lahat sa akin. binigay ko sayo na wala akong inaabangang kapalit. pero bakit ngayon, umaasa ako ng sukli? bakit ako naghahangad ng pagmamahal sa isang taong alam kong nakapulupot pa rin sa nakaraan?

hurt me. hurt me in every way you can. drag me everywhere until my insides come out. bring me to hell with you. leave me lifeless. kick me in the ribs. slap me hard enough for me to wake up.

kasi tangina ko. mahal kita. ito ang realidad na kinakaharap natin ngayon na dapat nating tanggapin. mahal. kita. mahal kita. pasensya na mahal kita. di ko naman mapipigilan. hindi ko alam pano nagsimula at mas lalong di ko alam pano magtatapos. ang alam ko lang ay puputok na ang puso ko. puputok na sa dami ng laman. tangina ko, diba?

i wish i could be anyone. then i would transform into your favorite girl. i would transform into your greatest kiss. your greatest moment. i would have the eyes that you would never look away from. i would have the softest hands that you would never let go of. i would have the greatest ideas that you will ever hear. i would be that girl. i would finally be someone else.

ayoko sa sarili ko eh. hindi kaaya-aya. hindi magaling humalik. bagsak at palaging mugto ang mga mata dala ng antok, pagod, at kakaiyak sa mga bagay na di naman dapat binibigyan ng pansin. magaspang ang mga kamay kakatrabaho ng mga bagay na hindi rin naman nabibigyan ng pansin. PUTANGINA PAGOD NA AKO. pagod na ako sa sarili ko kaya sana maging ibang tao na lang ako.

i'll wait for that miracle. i'll try to. i hope my heart doesn't stop beating when that time comes.

pero sana dumating na kaagad. kasi sa bawat minutong lumilipas na wala akong nakikitang iba, eh siyang daloy ng oras na gusto kong kitilin ang pagtibok ng puso ko. sabagay, para wala na rin ako nararamdaman o iniisip. uuwi na lang ako. kung tatanggapin ako sa bahay.

i'm sorry if i wanna go home now.

pasensya na kung gusto ko na umuwi. Umuwi.

I'm gonna love you until this very love breaks me.
Until my tears turn into blood.
I'm gonna love you to let you know that you deserve every single pretty thing from the world.
I'm gonna love you like it's my first time.
I'm gonna love you and all your brokenness.

I'm sorry, I know I'm still not in the right shape to fix you... nor myself.
But I'll keep on giving.
I'll give until there's nothing left to give anymore.
I'm sorry if ever the time comes I would run dry.
I'll give you all.
That's how I love, anyway. I love with my all. I risk my all.

You got me out of my metaphors and my flowery words because you've shown me a big chunk of reality.
Now I'm writing as is. I'm writing what I'm feeling and what I'm thinking without having to brainstorm any other words to describe everything beautifully.

Today, I'm raw. I'm raw to the flesh. It is yours to take. I've always been yours since day one. The mere fact that what's stopping me to do stupid **** is the thought of you hugging me--just like that morning when you reassured me of your feelings, when you said you love me-- is enough to prove to you that I love you.
You can hold my demons and shape it to butterflies and it scares me because maybe the demons would get back to you and I wouldn't be there or I wouldn't know what to do but just to hug you. I'm sorry if I **** at making things better. I love you so much, just remember.

Now, I'm writing this as a sign of love. And if by any miracle you would read this, just know that this is for you and for you alone. But for now, this would remain as an unspoken truth. I'm sorry I couldn't explain this to you.

You are not a failure. You are not being unfair. You are in the presence of love and entangled deep in its gears. You are enclosed by the pain it emanates. I want to be the one who pulls you out of the dark. Please let me be the one.

Please let me be the subject of your stories.
Please let me be the message of your songs.
Please let me make you happy. I'll try to be, for you.
Please let me give my all.
Please let me have you.
Please, please let me have your entirety.

it's always fun at carnivals.
pretty lights, cotton candy, fun games
it's a fountain of youth for everyone.

until

the lights shut down.
the cotton candy rots.
the games are already playing you.

and it gets worse.

the dark, cloudy sky chases you.
kids start crying all over the place.
rain is pouring down the carousel.

the carousel? The Carousel?
The Carousel, where you thought would be the safest ride.
where you carefully placed the secrets of your world.
where you wistfully pointed out your dreams.
where you stayed without feeling dizzy
when all you did was to go round and round and round
round and round

until

you started to get tired.
you saw the horses are not the real horses you always dreamed of riding.
you heard the music isn't pleasing anymore.
you heard cracks and gears being dislocated.
you can't see anything anymore.
your secrets have escaped instead of you.
you tried to escape this demeaning makeshift world of yours but to no luck.

you've seen the whole carnival now.
dreary, miserable, lonely.
the once colorful tents were now drenched in sorrowful monochrome.
mirrors are placed all over the gaming booths.
broken lights.
sad, sad music.

you thought The Carousel was the carnival itself.
i thought The Carousel was the carnival itself.
i made the greatest mistake of not tasting the cotton candy, not feeling the sun on my skin.
have the horses tricked me?

i've seen the whole carnival now.
it's not what it is years ago.
the gates are closed.

it's always fun at carnivals.
the fun never stops.
dim lights, rotten food, mind games.
everyone's favorite choice is escape.

i tried to.
i'm still trying to.

waves / groping / the sand
like how / i ***** / your waist
water / trickling down
like my / hands
excess / drops / falling
like how / i did / with you

and as the
air
around us
grows thinner
by the second,
i just want
to say
that we
had a chance
of life
but here we are,
faking
and enjoying
every piece of it.

cold september evening
i am dying to tell you
how much
i miss you
but i guess
if i die today,
i might feel regret
in the afterlife.
so i let it pass.

let go of me
i think i want to
take control
this time around.
i am my own wheel
in my own unicycle
tonight.

i am thirsty
for words that
amuse me
confuse me
and ****** me
i am blank
tonight
dry,
as a lover
without a cheap ****.

i would probably die first
but who knows
maybe i'm already dead.
maybe you're already talking to a lost soul
trying to find a grasp in the afterlife,
or just plainly seeking out just for you.

i am just confused as you are.

i feel very much alive when you hold my hands
yet when i hold myself, it slips through.
i feel my colors pouncing all over the place when you stare at me with those hazel eyes
yet when i look at myself in the mirror, i see a blank canvass and a monochromatic, melancholic, dull shadow.
i hear your voice in every song i listen to
yet i never heard my own when i'm screaming for help.

do you think of me as a dead person?
or do you see a vivid version of me?

how fast we fade.
one moment,
we were a forest fire.
the next one,
we were a clearing.

how slow we recover.
our flowers are still seeds,
our trees are still shrubs.
we still grow on the same earth,
under the same sky.

how could a dance between two wanderers fill up an empty space
that's yearning to be occupied by
attention, affection, and devotion for so long?
how does every step equate to every heartbeat i've probably spent by
looking into your dark eyes
feeling your hands wrapped around me?

how could a dance between two sinners leave behind a mark
brought by the tight bond of security whose ropes almost choked me to death
well, i wish i could die right at that moment
to preserve my sanity forever.

all i see now are spaces
fit for slow dancing
and all i feel now are your hands
landing on my waist and on my shoulders
all i hear now is the sappy love song
we floated upon
and all i can taste now is your lips
finding its way to mine.

how could a dance between two wanderers fill up an empty space
that's yearning to be occupied by
attention, affection, and devotion for so long?
how does every step equate to every heartbeat i've probably spent by
looking into your dark eyes
feeling your hands wrapped around me?

how could a dance between two sinners leave behind a mark
brought by the tight bond of security whose ropes almost choked me to death
well, i wish i could die right at that moment
to preserve my sanity forever.

all i see now are spaces
fit for slow dancing
and all i feel now are your hands
landing on my waist and on my shoulders
all i hear now is the sappy love song
we floated upon
and all i can taste now is your lips
finding its way to mine.

steady hands, ready hands
unplanned affection, genuine emotion
witnessed by colored noises
and ignorant minds, curious eyes

was i too good?
to be kissed by a saint, by an angel
whose wings were clipped, were drowned
in a sea of lullabies

in the most appropriate place
in The Most Appropriate Place
i sunk in my seat
i grew in the heat
of the moment
i saw grace
in the moment
i held grace itself.

i think we were high once. you on your substances and me on my 1:56 am thoughts.

i think we were drowned once. you on your alcohol and me on my melancholic gospels.

i think we were deaf once. you from the excessive noises of life and me from the unwanted songs of silence of my lips.

i think we were blind once. you from the sun you always looked upon and me from the tears i offered to another.

i think we are high now. only, you on your 1:56 am thoughts and me on my substances.

beautiful visions of me
align before your eyes
and you stop
for a second
or was it a minute,
or an hour?
doesn't matter, you just
stood still.
you were looking at me
like i'm stripped off my clothes.
i'm wondering
what you're thinking about.
are you thinking about ******* me ******* your bed
or
dressing me up instead?

i don't know
but i think
you'd like to **** me
in a dress.

meet me halfway.
between your daydreams.
between your nightmares.
between your tears.
between your laughs.
between your thighs.

meet me halfway.
where we'll never meet the edge.
where we'll never fail.
where we'll see what lies beyond.
where we'll never see the turning points.
where we'll never see the ends.

meet me halfway.
to lose track of time.
to lose our sense of direction.
to lose our minds in the process.
to lose our sight of what's happening.
to lose ourselves, to ourselves.

meet me halfway.
and stay until the ends find us.

i didn’t know that hands could be sinful until i felt yours.
the feeling was nothing special.
nothing special at all.
i fell into a deep abyss of nothingness.
where nothing becomes everything.
and everything goes blank.

i guess it's easier
to tell me you love me
when i'm naked.
i hope you find yourself blankly forward
when i'm clothed someday.
my skin doesn't long
for your affection
and flowery words.
it was never yours
to please you, anyway.

every thought of you
is
a pound on the chest,
a lump on the throat,
and
a stirring confusion on the mind.
i don’t want
to think of you
nor
think of you
or even
think of you
let alone
think of you.
but when asked
how i’m doing,
being fine
isn’t a
******* option.

we ended on a sunday morning.
the sky was clear,
the wind covered us,
but my heart wasn't anything near okay.
i had no idea about yours.

i always thought sunday mornings were a breeze.
it was a day for rest
and it was really a day for rest
we both had heavy loads on our shoulders.
and i'm trying to get a hold of myself.

i couldn't see sunday mornings the same way again.
i could only see us in that bench
with an obvious gap between our hands,
distant breathing,
and my eyes fixated on the trees...

...because i couldn't look at you the same way i saw your face in our first sunday morning together.

because on that particular sunday morning,
us on the bench,
clear skies and fresh wind,
it left me a lingering feeling.

i tried to love you
but i just felt like giving up
delicate fingers
bare skin
and wet kisses
couldn't fix the scars
i had once.
just stop, honey
and sit still
for now

look / at the city
crying / and / starving
in great hunger / they cling to

dreary / dreaming
dashboards / dissolve
empty / essences
crying / circuses

red lights / tame business
green lights / offer pursuit
suits / oppressed
manipulated / scarred

help / help

stop smiling at me
when all you have in mind
is ******* me,
making me scream
on your bed.

stop staring at me
when you're thinking of
stripping me,
exhibiting my flesh
inch by tantalising inch.

it's better to touch me
because you'd like to know
what gold feels like
in the very palm
of your hands.

and it's better to hold me
because you believe that

the best things
never last a day
without slipping pieces of it
away from your grip.

scarlet / playground
under lilac / skies
golden / kisses
on bronze / flesh

color me / whole
no more / monochrome
turn me / into art
tainted with / idiosyncrasies

have you ever been so lucky
to find heaven so close to you?
to see your dreams in the works?
i think i'm one of the few.

if being a slave means serving my salvation,
i would happily die not seeing how my fairytale would end.
i would not let myself go to the ball and dance with the prince who's supposed to be my ending.
i would choose you.

i would choose you, my tragic, tragic you.
my sad story, my death, my tears.

if being a slave means serving my salvation,
i would.
i would always.