the number of infected people keep on rising
like waves trying to drown us
with anxiety

no one truly knows where these waves are coming from

One moment people bump into each other,
splash! the wave comes. People tumble down
with fever, coughing, grasping for air
trying to come to the surface of those
who are still surfing these oceans with health

suddenly the waves from all over the world come together
a tsunami is formed

many are dead

Don’t try to change me. I’m not play dough.
You cannot mold me nor shape me to your likes.
I am what I am, period.
That’s that.

for all the years I wasted living in fear
I try to find the courage in those I hold dear
So I no longer waste anymore years

I’m tired of empathizing
It only gets you hurt

Empathizing turns you into a balance
where you carry everyone’s weight
including your own

So if you are not strong
everyone’s weight pulls you
down

six feet under

if you are not careful enough

Dark night
where the moon often hides amidst the clouds
and the stars are distant so far away from our sight
Tell me, how do you feel tonight?

how do you feel by knowing many fear to walk
the streets when you are the only company they got?



Dark night
this is something you must know,
When I see you, I grab a flashlight or some lamp
I’m not scared of you per se
I’m afraid I would tumble down the road with the first rock that gets in my way

Dark night
With your presence, you blind me so
I become so blind that I need to rely in the senses that I usually don’t

I know. I feel it.
I am no pristine water but
neither I am a muddy one
my waters are clear enough to see through
and safe enough to drink from
Yet for reasons unbeknownst to me
you try so hard to be the rocks that swim in me
despite the fact that my waters
keep on carrying you to the shores
away and away from me

don’t you seee?
as a rock
you keep on stirring waves in me
and these waves keep on pushing you
further and further away

tomorrow a flower grows
in fields of sorrow, like an anchor that goes
where the wind blows

Someone once asked, why do you write?
I replied, “because I need to let it out”
but came one day, when I needed to write
yet no words were coming out due to lack of time
So I asked myself once more, why do I write?
I replied, “because I want to”
but came one day when I wanted to write
yet all the words seem forced
so I asked again, why do i write?
This time, I thought about it deeply
then replied
“i write because i can
and i can because i want to
and i want to because i need to
and i need to ... make the time to write”

Within the truth lies a truth so truthful
that lies cannot lie about

You do not love me
I know you do not
For love is a fire that does not burn

Here I am cold
freezing in agony
freezing
and getting burnt

I’m just charcoal
completely gone

The ache the ache is back again
to help me write
to help me rest
Some say I’m cursed
Some say I’m blessed

I think I’m both
I think of course

When the storms cease to be
When the rain comes to greet the ground
by halting without a warning from the sun
When the wind becomes a breeze
and not a tornado in flames
You’ll come to meet us lord

teeth clenched tightly into skin
blood dripping from within
a dog fastened onto arm
a bike rode directly into harm

people watching from afar
a lady being eaten, left with scars
sirens getting louder on the road
cops arriving to the abode

children screaming really loud
paramedics going through the crowd
flesh torn to pieces, left a pool of red
disfigure face, bitten in the head

What a horror! What a mess!
a dog, a lady in distress.

Just like that, within a breeze,
the winds that swayed my thoughts for you,
stopped blowing
and my thoughts finally ceased to sway
for you for the first time

Poetry

I’m sorry
(I haven’t been completely honest with you)
My heart beats with ache despite my constant attempts at looking at situations with optimism. Don’t get me wrong, I do not struggle nor pretend to be optimistic. It comes natural to someone who always sees the negative in every aspect of life yet refuses to be surrounded by an abyss of negativity. Thinking negative at least for me usually reduces heartache. There’s less expecting and more accepting. Especially, there’s more happiness if nothing went the way it was ... well, expected. I mean, sure thinking negative gives some kind of expectative but also a positive surprised if what was expected didn’t come true.
Anyways, poetry
Lately, I have been enjoying looking at An empty page. There’s much I would like to write, I can feel it in me but there’s much that I do not want to know. I’m in denial. I refuse to find out what my feelings are. And it’s because of that that I feel like I’m cheating you. And it hurts.

somewhere
there is a voice dictating what I should write
One that is loud when emotions
wrestle in my chest
but turns soft or almost non-existent
when I feel null

Let’s try something different today.
Let’s see
Something...

Some things never change.

But wait, that’s a lie
Everything changes

People change
at least physically
Skin wrinkles as time passes by
It’s as if Time itself was water
and people submerge themselves
in it for a long... well...
a long time...

everyone swims in this water
some float naturally
others drown themselves in it
some suffocate with it
others just enjoy it

But no matter what
Water changes
at least its composition
some water have more minerals or vitamins in it
Other waters are more salty
Some are sweeter
there’s also polluted water
Yup, water changes

and we know in which water to swim
And we can choose from which Water to drink
But as Time changes
do we get that choice?

It pours! It pours!
into this little lagoon
just look at the waves
to tides being born
just look at the turbulence
under the light of the moon

this little lagoon
is a sea of hurt
with nothing to lose

I wanna run into the arms of the Present
and tick tock my way out out of my worries
like a ballerina happily tip toeing, pirouetting
her way throughout a dance floor

I wanna be held tightly but gently and passionately
by the hands of my Present, but most of all,
I want this Present
to let each second escort me safely to my destiny

the sun once told me
how the ocean evaporated for him
how the birds flew right under him
how he energized the flowers and trees
how pretty much the world revolved around him
but how he wished
to feel at least a quarter of the warmth he so constantly gives

I’m soft
almost like jelly
too soft
with a giggly like spirit
so every time
anyone harms me
I forget it, it just goes through,
or sometimes
it just bounces off to them

if I were a boat
sailing alone in the ocean blue
I might sink
right under the bright moon
but if I were that boat
sailing a castaway into safe landing
I would float
regardless of how broken
I may be

if the sun ceases to warm me up
and the AC functions no more
Some tequila shots will do the work
at least till it heats up my soul

She was herself like some kind of bookshelf
which held hundreds books that no one read
One of those books
had pictures of seas with mountains of trees
that no one dare see
and in those trees were roses of bones
dripping cold blood into her veins