My head and my heart
know only one song.

This song has no title
no artist
no album
no genre
unless you consider every person who had ever whispered this song
from cracked lips and dried up throats
or had hummed its tune in monotonous habit until it became nothing
but a humdrum sing-a-long, pass-it-on
religious routine with each letter sounding
outlandishly familiar to something forever etched in their memory.

My mother taught me this song
when I was two years old
because a decade minus eight is the age where you start remembering things like
the shape of your mouth when you’re forming the letter O
how it’s supposed to feel when it’s been struck and
how you’re supposed to not fight back
how you’re supposed to accept that you’re the weak one
how you’re just supposed to always and forever just sing
this one song.

“This
is the song your father
and his father
and his father’s father
and all their grandfathers’ great grandfathers
sang.
This
is the song that began
our end,”
is what my mother told me before she taught me
and before her lips could form the first vowel
before her throat could carry the first syllable
I knew.

I knew that this song
was a fallen hymn
drenched in desperation
its words only there to fill in the deafening silence
and like cheap cement
only meant to repair
but not to mend.
A tune that would put you to sleep
in order for you not to notice
the truth swept up under the rug
A ballad of blood
and ash
enough to fill up your lungs
and flow through your veins until its lies crawled up,
tainted and tattooed your skin
to produce scars for the world to see
scars for the world to label me
and say,
“Ah. She is her mother’s daughter.”

And when my mother finally sang the song,
I could feel the deceit and betrayal electrifying the air
adding to the illusion this twisted symphony
created that this
is the only song we can sing
this
is the only song
we were meant to bring
with us from cradle to grave.
I could hear hatred
notes of ignorance
chords of discord
something was wrong with the harmony
and I cried,
“Change the song!”
My mother sang on.
“Change the song!”
My father started to blend.
“Change the song!”
My grandmother came as a third voice.
“Change the song!”
My grandfather started to tap his feet to the beat.

And I realized that more than three hundred and thirty three years ago
someone had hummed a fa
had pressed a piano key
had written one verse
had been forced to scream out the bridge with chains on their wrists
crevices on their faces left by the tears that ran down the same path
enough times to make riverbeds
had passed the song down to his daughter
and her daughter
and her daughter’s great granddaughters
and had never stopped writing the lyrics since

There was an awkward rest in the song
as if someone had dared to stop continuing
had put the pen down
had tried to write truth instead of lies
but had died with the song of insurgency
and I asked my father whose blood it was
and he answered,
“Someone who asked questions.”
So I asked him who I was
and he answered,
“Nobody.”

But here I stand
here you stand
knowing the truth that has resurfaced
after being smothered by greed and power
century after century
curse after curse
thorn after thorn
I grew up asking questions
and I’m asking them again.
Are you going to be the first one
to erase the words?
Are you going to be the first one
to drown them out with freedom shouts?
Are you going to be the first one
to lay the pen down?
Because if you won’t, then I will
so that one day, my daughters will know
and carry this in their hearts,
Ang  mamatay  nang  dahil  sa  *iyo

I never asked for this.
I never wanted to know you
to feel you on my morning skin
to hear you whisper songs with the wind

I never wanted you.

And I was such an idiot for not wanting you
but you pulled me in
and promised me on that painful night
that joy would come with the dawn

I never wanted you.

Especially now that you refuse to
leave me
I've been faithless my entire life but
now I think I can manage just
a drop
even though it's the size of a mustard seed.

I never wanted you.

Because of you I can't have it my way
I want my way
but yours is always better and I know that
but I still try to
go
and you still
take me back
every single time

I never wanted you.

I didn't ask for your love
Your stupid, relentless --
I hate this
because it's too much for me to take in
to hold in
but it's a beautiful kind of hate
How come your love is like this
it's like an ocean and I'm drowning, but the thing is
I'm allowing the drowning
I didn't ask for your love because

I never wanted you.


You wanted me.

He hates sunrise
because the lovely pale glow of each ray
is a beautiful dagger pointed straight at his heart
the tip an inch away
from drawing the life out of him
you are the life in him
and he hates you so.

He hates anchors
because they don’t let
even the biggest ships glide along the waters as they please
and you don’t let him glide along as he pleases
you are his anchor
and he hates you so.

He hates the wind
because without it
he would have no direction
no strength to move on
you are
and you aren’t his wind
and he hates you so.

I have watched him
sail the hardest seas
cut through the roughest waters
brave the wildest winds
but you…
he doesn’t know how to deal
with the pain of missing you.

dear lover,

i miss you. even though i’ve never met you, i can still feel your energy from a thousand miles away.

a face that can make men go to war for you. your smile makes time move slow, everything in the world makes sense. i find comfort in your love and warmth in your presence.

lover. i fell in love with your words, everything you uttered was. beauty personified in words. that deep energetic vibe from your soul makes me want to dance in your. elegance.

i fell in love with your mind, and i fell deep within your subconscious. a trance i was in. you’re my intellectual crush. you had me on my knees, you had me intellectually lovin’ you.

i had a dream we were both dancing to Eros’ beautiful rhythm. nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart, baby don’t think im out to hurt you. not my intention.

i fell in love with you and i never knew. falling in love with you was never my plan. but i guess it was God’s plan. we’ll never know.

even though we’ve never met. i can still remember the sound of your heartbeat, your voice so sweet like the heavens. and your movement so graceful. graceful. you’re like a Raven – innocent, beautiful, sweet.

my heart just skipped a beat.

beautiful soul. speak to me. i saw the beauty of life through you, beautiful soul. and even though we’ve never met, lover. i miss you.

you got a lotta soul, lady. that’s beautiful.

all i wanna do is admire your beauty from a distance because im afraid if i touch you. my flesh will be tempted to do all that is regarded. earthly.

i’ll prolly luh you fo’eva. let me escape through you in thought. beautiful lover. beautiful soul.

“touch me with your mind. hands are overrated & ‘soul’ is overused.”

the closest stranger i’ve never met. i became more with you. your lips i will kiss, your hips i will hold, and your love i will embrace. you have my heart. you have the key to my heart.

and the more i think of you, i miss you. even though we’ve never met, beautiful lover.

our hearts are interlocked in deep conversation. thoughts & feelings in graceful motion, love never known.

i saw us dancing under the moonlight. you wore a silk white dress with Queen Elizabeth’s crown upon your head. and me, just a man wearing a white suit with a purple rose in his chest pocket.
imagine.

and we danced in the cosmos, the stars were watching us — the sun and the moon were playing music only heard in the heavens.

dear lover. beautiful lover. beautiful soul. i love you. i miss you. even though we’ve never met.

If ever you forget me,
try searching the folds of your skin
the secret space that bends to form your elbows
the nook underneath your collarbones
because I'm almost certain
that I've dropped a postcard or two
with riddles that lead to
your memory of me.

If you ever forget me,
drift off to sleep.
sleep deep.
I'll be the one in your dream
who is cheering the loudest in the crowd
as you spin and do backflips on an elephant's trunk.
I'll be the stone you trip on
the one that causes you to fall down a mountain
but I'll also be the eagle that saves you, and
we'll soar.
we'll soar.

Just
in case you forget me,
just
play songs from the winter birdhouse
and maybe the shaky voices and
dusty guitars will help you remember.
I told you once upon a December's eve
that no one can sing
they can only cry beautifully and
the best singers are those who weep the loveliest
so maybe a playlist
filled with warm nutmeg kisses
will help you remember.

If that still doesn't work,
go back to every time you bled
replay every tear, pause at every clenched fist
every second you were on your knees
but didn't see me standing beside you
behind you
whispering prayers
trying to plant seeds
you never heard me
but the entire time my being was screaming
I'm here

Only when and only if
you forget me,
I hope you'll at least try
to close your eyes
and see the treasure map I tattooed on your eyelids
the one where x marks the spot
where we cut paper figures
by your favorite river
next to the little meadow with
tiny spring flowers
but if that doesn't work either
lie awake at night
search your heart and
if you aren't able to see
my fingerprints on your veins
or my toes peeping out from your
heart's deepest chambers,
it's okay.
Because even if you forget me
over
and over
and over again
I'll always just be here
wishing I never had to
write a poem about someone
you'll never forget
when they've already forgotten you.

the night consisted of me hinting at the presence of a guy
a guy i really like, a guy whose name
like a reverie, i could not bring myself to utter

i talked about everything because i do not care
i do not care about you, your enamoured face, your
saccharine words, instead i batted them away
as if they were unwanted flies harassing a dim light
of which they are enraptured by, devotedly yet
foolishly

by the end of the night i had grown tired of entertaining
the ghost of the guy whose name i could not utter
of glimmering gutlessly at my blatant apathy
of being a subject of novelty

you were the kid, strung on by a piece of nothing
and i was the power-bearer, merciless in
faithless speeches, indulgent in frivolousness
so i halted the meet, streamed mindlessly towards
a place where i renounced my false interest
my douchebaggery, then proceeded to wipe off
the kiss you'd left on my unwitting, unwelcoming lips

i do not like you, do not want traces of you to
envelope, overwhelm the traces of him on me
but i don't think they ever will