...and that allure
so poorly hidden
and so over the top
in her smile
just had to keep me going.
        if anything,
she was my fuel
              and if anything else,
     she was happy to burn out
     if she was lighting the way for me—
before she had to go
she'd always tried
convincing me too
          'red had always been my color'
      when we've always
      and only have
                 ever known
   she looked best in a deep shade of blue.
at least i got to tell her
now that i understand
she could look perfect
in any other tint or hue.
            i guess there is
            a billion happy things
            about being your
            lover's own killer
like she swore there would
      as if she knew even a single thing
      about happy endings—

                           so vague and
          insatiable...
          just like her—

i got to hear her last words
muffled... mangled
    as i was pretending
    that i wasn't the man
    plunging that knife
    twisting the handle
    as the blade inches
    through her guts
           like a ***** slowly
           being driven in to
           the notch it belongs

"tell her she's lucky."
"she landed the man of the year."
"tell her she deserves you."
"and if you ever hurt her,"
"i will haunt you down and kick your ***."
        "tell her sorry"
        "that i couldn't"
        "make the ceremony"
        "if only i had a red dress..."
"but you can go now."
"and have the happiest day of your life."
"i am so proud of you."
        
                    i could really swear
                    this is the happiest
                    of the days of my life.

        a galactic soiree embraced me
        as soon as i entered the chapel
                cerulean sashes
  and a deep slate-coloured motif carpet
  with the lush of stargazers in every step
  as if the maid of honor did this all for me
it was perfect. everything was.
up to the string quartet playing
queen's love of my life as she
was walking down the isle
in her perfect velvet dress
         as if the only blazing light
         trying its best to glow bright
         in the pallid glum sight
         all around us...
                 with all her might—
she joined me to face the altar
unfazed by the absence of her
very best friend that planned this day...
        there are a billion happy things
        that i could just smile about
        just while standing there still:
   the wonder of 'i do' that for so long
   we've always anticipated to vow
   in front of each other and a priest;
         the gusto of that bolognese
         we've spent to much to have
         catering for in the reception;
that irrepleceable magic
of the musicians as they
played chopin's fantaisie;
     and that allure.
     so poorly hidden
     and just so ****
     over the top
            in her smile—

but i know red suits her
so much better...
     she should've been
     the one slathered
     covered in crimson
                                     not you—

one of the billion happy things
about being your lover's killer
is the fact that beyond the grave
i know exactly where to find you...

In her world everything had to be perfect from head to toe. Until she met the man who was so and so.

She wanted to accept him but the gravity was far too much. She could never fall for someone as sloppy as such.

So he tried again, this time training, whipping himself to perfection. Time then passed by, and he was too 'normal' to catch her attention.

--lovers--



       We were
              two steps      
                  shy of love,          
                    first was that              
                                  I gave up                            
                            and the second:                        
                                    you made me            
                                                          stop. ­           


                                                              ­  --strangers--

in my mind
           all i really
      wanted
      was mind enough
         to say no...
                  and yet
as i had knelt...
and as i had pleaded..
     all i could ask for
                                    was ignorance
               and all i could say
          was thank you
                          for all the venom---
                   still
           it
                              feels just
              a little bit sad
                                  i couldn't
  ask for more...
                               more drops
                          by
              drops
wishing
  ­                                wanting
                         ­                                              waiting
                   washing down
       falling



       even deeper






       ever faster
    






                                              ­intoxicating
sating myself more and more in this
scrumptouos feast of more and more
                 and with every single mouthful
i take in
                  my appetite begs for more and more
       yes
                           i am a wolf.
           the lowest of the low
                     in a tripartite soul.
and i can't help
                            but fill myself up
     no matter how much
                  i weigh myself down.
                                      i just want more.
                          more of bullets
       for every single word you say
                  more of icicles
              for every single awkward touch
more of daggers
                for every single glare you look me
                 down with
                                   more of poison
       for every single lie you make me swallow
        forcefully down my own throat saying
        that you've always been true
                                                           ­  more of you...
for every single night i waste
away lying wide awake lying
to myself about not regretting
every sound i taught, trained
my tongue to incarcerate until
you were no longer there to listen
                       more of flames.
        the feeling i get whenever you
         quench my burning aching hunger.
                more of flames
that blazing glimmer i become
when everyone looks at all my
scars with disappointment.
                               i want more of flames.
                     and i just want to burn it all down
along with you.
                  and then
                                   i'd happily engulf myself
     engorge myself
                                  on all our
shared
                     pain
                                                         and
                                misery
     knowing that no one will ever
           knowingly share anything else with me...
                                                                let me bask
                     at least one last supper
in the blissful toxin
                                   of our cannibalism
                   and one last time
                       we'll cast a miracle and
     burn
                               in the gluttony
of our lustful intersuffering
                                                  ­drowning drunk
        from the deathly fermentation
                        of our own flowing blood
              knowing
    we'll never again
                          have to wake up
                 with a killer of a hangover tomorrow.

cold autumn waters
rushing its way
underneath my feet
weaving through
             toe to toe
     slicing
          hacking its way
                   through the legs of my seat--
so naturally shining
the reflected beams
of sunlight
          knew how to pick
                which stream
        of which inch
                      of which hairline
               of the river
                            to show oh so clearly
            straight into my eyes--
this was exactly how
                                    i remembered
    the words flowing
                singing and dancing
         all so merrily in my mind.
                      and yet
                    --silence--
   i sit and stew
              in the comfort of my room--
          the fan spews nonesense
       whispering frigid sweet nothings
                      it distracts me
                  so i turn it off.
                      the light shone too brightly
                showing me far far too much
         it annoys me
                         so i turned it down.
                   the natural sounds
               the allure of the wild
                        the little chirps and peeps
                      and the babble of the brooks
i remember none of them
sounding like the clicks and clacks
        that i hear with every press of my finger
                             and every character i delete
                it discomforts me
                        i took a deep breath.
             and another.
                             closing my eyes
       i still saw a faint red through it's thin lid
                   i tried to picture
    the same magical world
                             i used to write in
               back when i was a bard
                     and everything
         the light touches
                                       would be my kingdom
                            my muse.
               and i smiled...
                     all my vivid recollections
       the people and worlds i breathed life to
                  the words that used to be so so alive
             it all felt empty
                    so i opened my eyes
    and tried to write again--

She loved nothing but her own face. 'Nothing compared!' The people shouted making her smile. But then she saw a woman in the mirror as white and fair as she and she cursed that woman shattering her apart so nothing can compare to her face.

No hair flown more elegantly nor was there any as silky as her's so that was all she cared for. But she feared the bite of her comb would hurt her crown so she cursed that brush ripping apart it's dentures so nothing can ever bite her hair.

Her body was perfect from head to toe. Even softer and smoother than any cloth on the land. No fabric can be whiter or fairer than her skin. So she took her dress and cursed it tearing it apart so nothing can get in the way of her beauty.

The people watched the beauty day and night, how her face wrinkled without a mirror to tell her, how her hair grew frizzy and damaged without a comb to fix it, how her body was raided with scars and rashes and so many more. So they cursed her beauty bringing her into tears so that none may be enchanted by her.

But a prince charming came to her and wiped the drops off her cheeks. And beauty smiled gazing into his handsome face. He promised her he'll be her mirror and her comb and her dress and he'd love her forevermore. And even though her beauty is cursed he stayed beside her keeping making her feel beautiful inside.

And they lived happily ever after...

wrap your warm
           benevolent
    loving
           and caring arms
  all around me
                and whisper to my ears
                that you've always heard
                all my prayers and pleas
                     renew your covenant
          right now
     that you'll forever
                                 be with me
for i've forever been faithful to you
        then help me
               tell the whole world
            that you've
      since been the one
              i have
                 always
                     believed
                         you are.
                   let me show them
           that you are not
                                       the mess
                              of ***
                                   christened
                                                     in crack
                                                and pina colada
                                  that they now
                          think you are
                               let me make them see
          that you are not
          just a sad sack
          of fairy tales
          white washed
          painted pretty
          to hide your scars.
                  let me
                             let them
                                           understand
                             that under the husk
                             of that hopeless mirth
                             of the man they see
                             when they see you today
        lies the man
                                          that i see
                whenever
i close my eyes.
use me to open their's
use me to have them know
that you exist.
please.
                         i know you are
            out there
                        somewhere.
the man that i
              used to know.
                          i believe
                      you haven't forgotten...
                          i believe
           you haven't changed.
                                  my heart burns
                 to be the sacrifice
                                         that invites forth
                                                       your presence.
                                i long for you
                                            to make known
                           your being
                           once again.
           fashion your altar
                     from the tongue in my mouth
      i shall never cease
                              to sing of memoirs
                   for you.
                              use my bones
                make them the foundation
                                       upon which
                           you grace with your miracles
                                  and with all
                     the living skin
                               of my flesh
                            carve your memory
                                        of which no one
                                        will ever forget.

she was a system
i can never violate again

i don't know
    where to start...
          mom said
        the words
            would just flow
      she didn't tell me
         that tears would flow
    in their stead.
        clears throat
             i didn't know dad
       more than
          the bottles
             he always kept
       bringing home.
          mom said he was
          always like them
          always shattered
          always empty
          always cold.
             she said
      if i ever get too much,
          i will burn----
        i never got
        to ask if it was
        dad or beer
        she was talking about...
            snicker
     so earlier
         i was looking
       at dad's stuff
             for something to say.
           there was this
                drawer i've never
       even dared to look into
                til yesterday.
           clears throat
       and i found this letter.
               you see
          at first i thought
      this house was too big
             for just one child----
         now i get it.
                hush
            'to my future daughter:'
        clears throat
              'dianthine'
         'before i say'
            'anything else'
              'do you like your name?'
         'we named you after diana'
            'not the roman goddess,'
       'your mother.'
                'we didn't even fight'
           'to find that name'
       'it was perfect.'
          'like you were going to be.'
               'i'm simply sorry.'
      'you had so much'
         'waiting for you.'
            'you were going to be a lawyer'
     'and criminal prosecutor even.'
         'sorry.'
               'you should know'
       'it's my fault.'
             'simply my fault.'
           'but'
              'i'
             'did'
            'not'
           'mean'
         'for'
           'it'
             'to'
         'happen.'
             'but your mother's gone.'
            'your supposed to be mom'
          clears throat
                     'your only mom.'
         'i have to let you know'
               'that i was the one who quit.'
i figured it out immediately
mom's name was diana but,
mom would quit on dad
before he'd ever quit on her...
             let me continue
        ruffles paper
           'i love diana'
       'i need to just outright say it'
                'since i know'
                'that you would'
                'never get to'
                'meet her----'
         'she is perfect,'
      'she was...'
'it's like mercy though, even if you don't;'
'at least you won't get to be raised by some'
           'old'
           '****'
           'like'
           'the'
           'stupid'
           'me.'
     'yes...'
               yes.
'i'm sorry for sourgraping.'
'sorry for not doing anything better.'
        'honestly she'd be the excellent parent'
        'all i'd probably do is talk-----'
        'or keep you from taking up alcohol'
        'or something---- i don't know'
'i'm sorry.'
'i'm sorry.'
             clears throat
                           'i'm sorry'
                           'i'm sorry'
              tightens paper
       'i don't know what else to say, dianthine.'
'i never told diana this, but...'
           'i was really hoping to meet you'
     'but i promise you this.'
                'if it is not diana'
         'if it's not someone'
      'as perfectly fantastic'
   'as your supposed to be mother----'
              'and if its not you.'
         sobs
           'if it's not as brilliant'
       'or dashing'
              sobs
                'as we hoped you'd be...'
             'then there's no point.'
        'i'm sorry.'
   'i'm sorry.'
               whimpers
            sorry
      clears throat
              dad gave me a ghost
    not his...
          i've always thought
       danthein was too weird
             for a guy's name
     i guess i was just that ghost
that haunted my dad...
i'm sorry
       sobs
  folds paper
            sorry dad, but i have to say
       you may have failed
           in everything that makes
              a good parent----
you succeeded
in one thing,
it might have
been a simple thing
        but you got it right:
               you were a father.

W                            e                        s          ­   t             a           r          t         e      d            f       a       r          a       w     a      y      f    r   o   m     e  a  c h   o t h er now wehavenowhereelsetogobutruntogether but no o n e   r e a l  i  s  e   d     t    h    a    t      w    e      s    h   a    l     l       a      l     w      a       y       s         b        e         d        r        i         f         t           e        r        s         r      u        n          n          i         n        g            t      o       w      a       r      d         w    h    a    t     l  o ve nextoffers.

Embrace me oh love
For I know not the feeling
Of warmth
                  nor arms on my back
      Just hold me my love
               for long have i
               lost the mem'ry of
   painlessness
   senselessness
          carelessness
                                relentless...
       eyes on me my love
            rest them on mine
                  that i might see care
    and oh that you might kiss me
           for so have i longed
           the sweet greet
           of grazing lips
                     so fondly
                     found only
               in minstrels sung----
      that of a swan's song.
             so if your love is
             as your tongue doth say
  so must your love be
          and shown in love's ancient way...
       demand the world to stop
       as you summon the stars
                  and let them mingle
                  in the same sky as the sun's
              oh love that you'd show me love
          that i've heard and neved seen once.
   and leave me alone then love...
      since i know not of what happens
          afterward.

There are 7.6 billion people
Scattered around the world---

        but there are twice
        as many faces...

   some are smiling    
   some are smug    
        some have their feelings
        totally swept under a rug
   some are breaking
   and some in derision
        and some still waiting
        for their salvation

Some will run
And some shall walk
    But in the billion people
  All they really do is talk----

There are a trillion faces
Infesting over the globe

       but only half of them
       are truly people.

i was young...
      well, younger than now----
   it was when it first struck me
it struck me hard.
          it struck me like reality...
       but more like
         reality when reality comes
    in the face of your
             family
        all in chains...
     then, reality looks like dreams altogether;
            no not fantasy----
              not exactly a nightmare either
                         more like
                  ----ecstasy-----
      "you are a special weapon"
           "something of great potential"
        "and massive power"
              "but you only have one shot"
          mom always used to say.
                   i even once thought
                       she stashed some kind of
           deathray or sting ray or something
           in my arm----
    ----it won't be the first thing
                 she stuffed in me anyway...
              i was eight years old when she
                     finally continued the sentence.
           before total silence.
                  "make it count."
       "cause whether you hit"
         "or even if you miss..."
           "you would be broken"
            "shattered-----"
            "torn to pieces-----"
            "torn apart."
                                 "so please"
                               "don't"
                        "break"
                         ­   "yourself"
                                "shooting"
        ­                            "for"
                      "nothing.­"
                  she never taught me
                  how to use
                  the weapon
                  myself-----
       she just fragmented
           in tears before splintering
                  tearing to shards herself
         it took me til 15
               that i was afraid
                      to yet touch
     even stare
               even think
        nothing.
                  i never knew
           what i was capable of
                      i never knew how
              to control
       to even activate
                 all i knew was that
i was powerful
i don't know what of
but i have to save it
           keep it         live it      nurture it
       store it               amass it                  seep it
             savor it                understand it
    study it            feel it
             polish it                         train it                      
              let it breathe
   let it sing
               i could hear it sing
    i could feel it whisper-----
          and i was so afraid...
                    all i saw of my mother was
      that she was in pieces
             long before i knew her.
                 shambles
                 and
                 shackles
         and i don't want to be that when i fire----
it wasn't supposed to strike me
      but it did, and it struck me hard
   reality
           i was 16 when i
       first made the discovery
                 ----love-----
          all at once
                and much, much too completely----       all off guard.
         it was like
                    you suddenly turned
                a blinding light
      on something that had always been
                 half a shadow
        that's how it struck me...
            that's how it shattered me...
    it's like a full flashback
           of my mother saying
      'i told you so'
                  except she never did.
               and it struck me.
      like i hit the right target at the wrong time
      or the opposite of it
          but truth is
             i just hit
      a poltergeist
           way too soon
                 and it wasn't like
        it was the wind that was hit----
    that's how it struck me,
              love
          and that's how it tore me apart.
                 ----fragmented----
and it did not take me long
to realise what glass cannons we were...
          all my life
      i never tried to
         activate my strength
and when i did
              it imploded.
                               it was a long time...
and i was blinded----
         it wasn't the hit
             nor was it the miss
that tore me apart
                        it was love that broke me
     because shattered pieces
                    are not
                all that bad
                            splinters...
                   shards...
                       fragments...
                                    blades...
      ­       one shot was all it took
        to break my heart
                    and so suddenly...
                    every part of me...
                              was a weapon
                         everyone who held me
                                 hurt
                                 bled
                              cried
                        ­    pained
                        burned
                    wai­led
               enraged
      agonized
                   they turned to anger
          then turned to hate
                            they turned to each other
                                 pretty soon turning to waste
          it was then that it struck me
               what a glass cannon is----
and it was until now that i was eluded...
                        for that long a time
       i thought shards were
       all love could offer...
       fragments were
       all romance could be
                     i met
            your father
            your father
            your father
            your father
    and your father
    all through different shards
                      until i saw what i had
                 all in shambles
                 and
                 all in shackles
     just like my mother
             that's when it struck me
        ---ecstasy---
                       cause looking into your eyes
              my children
                     i love you
         as a whole
                  not like with your fathers
            or like with the guys before them
        or like the guys before the other guys
                         i wanted more than ever
                    to love you
                more than
                      a few shards
                  all tainted
              with blood
          or with anger
                  or with both----
                  that's when it hit me
           and it hit me with so much pain...
           what my mother really should have said.
being a glass cannon
     doesn't mean being
          a weapon to hurt others-----
                    it means one day,
              no one knows when,
       but it will surely come
          like a thief in the night...
                 love
  and you will give your all
  even if it shatters you to pieces
               and even if you are already in pieces
       because you know love
       can make you again whole.

Ito na ang aking huling awitin,
Awiting sa iyo'y kakantahin,
Sa tono ng mga alaalang kinalimutan,
Kandirit ng mga luhang pinakawalan,

Sa langit, sa lupa, sa ilog, sa sapa,
Sa araw araw na ako'y naghahanda,
Sa bawat gabing aking inaalay,
Sa bawat umagang ika'y hinihintay,

Pasan ko sa bawat yapak,
Ilang galon ng alak na nilaklak,
Upang limutin ang ligaya't galak,
Ang babaeng ibang landas ang piniling itahak,

Na kahit saan pumunta'y di na mahanap,
Lumingon man kaliwa't kanan di mahagilap,
Tuwing pipikit naaalala mata **** kumikislap,
Ngunit wala ka rin, sayang lahat ng pagsisikap...

Sa ganda ba naman ng ating simula,
Sino ba naman ang mag aakala?
Na sa ilalim ng punong aratilis kung san tayo unang nagkita,
Dito ngayon ako nama'y pasintonadong tumutula?

Sa dami ng mga nangyari mula nang tayo'y nagkakilala:
Saya,
Lungkot,
Ligaya...
Hanggang sa ika'y nagsimulang humarot,
Pagdududa,
T4ng*, di na dapat pa akong sumagot!

Nag-kaaway--
Upang magkabati lahat inialay,
Ngunit muli nanamang nagpasaway,
Hanggang nagdesisyon kang tuluyan nang maghiwalay...
...

Kamusta ka na?
Pasensya kung nasaktan kita,
Patawad sa mga galos at pasa,
Ngunit ang kaya ko lang gawin ay awitan ka,
Sana marinig mo huli kong mga nota,
Kahit sintonado kong kinakanta--
Kung maglaho na ako, babalik ka ba?
Maaari bang sa takipsilim na lang tayo magkita?
Di ko naman sinasadya...
Na ika'y bigla na lang mawala.
Tulad mo rin ba akong nababalisa?

Wag kang mag alala, makakasama mo uli ako mamaya--

there was a
      lantern
              perched in
                  my hand
                      and i was
      too afraid to
                           light it
                    yet the horrors
    in the road
        wasn't what
                terrified me,
            it was the destination ahead.
                        the light i held
              sought the
  road to
       illuminate
                 and yet
                       i just know
             it wasn't
                   the road
       i was taking
                nor could it be
          the roads
                     i will be passing...
                                it will be the road
              i take when
                            i finally decide
                                                to take a u-turn.    
with one foot down and a weary knee
                      thinking about
        every afternoon
             going to the 'right' garage
                      after strolling in the
                   wrong neighborhood
                             staring blankly
                                  at all the cities
              all the towns
all the villages
     all the blocks  
          all the intersections
               all the streets
                         in all garages
        that could've possibly been 'right'
                   and one that could've
              possibly been home
    possibly been hope
                         i park at the house.
          all i see is a
                one
             way
                  street
               stretching
                         forever
                             in front   
                               of me...
                               and the ride back home
                      so far away------
                                               finally
                                                   i
                                              found
                                                the
                                            reason
                                             to
                                       light
                                    up
                    the
way.

mama, i made someone happy yesterday!
i smiled as the door opened
              just as i always did
it was my first time to be chosen
    to be honest i was so nervous
they made me try out so many clothes
they said i had to look as pretty as i should
         they said they were trying to bring out
         my youthful look...
i never thought that meant
     more skin.
     more chest.
     more legs.
              he was an old man
wrinkles ravaged round his face
yet his smile had no blemish
          he stared at me
          and chose me almost immediately
i was never more proud
yet i was clueless of what next to do
    i should have wrote to you as early as then
         but as soon as
       we arrived
                          at my 'new home'
                or at least that was how he called it
   he called me to his room
            he nearly had to kneel
            in order to see me
                eye
                to
                eye
      i thought he was going to hug me
      as he leaned in
                                 he just undid my bra
            his hands were huge
            they cover almost my whole chest
he asked me to take of my shorts
        and he was smiling
   for once i knew
              i was doing something right
i barely slid my undergarment off and he pressed me against the unsuspecting bed
       he grabbed both my legs
                    as he told me to open them
              while he tole me to close my eyes
    he started
          pushing against me
      it was so so hard             so painful
relentless      excrutiating            i had to
                 bite my tongue to stop myself
         from screaming
               i think i was bleeding?
           i felt the blood pour out
                        i couldn't take it.
    i couldn't ask him to calm down
               it was just way too fast
he was panting                breathing heavily
         grunting         driving himself too hard
    it was like he could run out of breath
                       i wanted to make him stop
i really did
                   trust me.
            but as soon as i tried to shout
      or help him or something
                he fell over
          don't worry though he was still breathing
                           and his face
he just looked way too happy
           i was paralyzed the rest of the day
     until now i can barely stand up
                    but he was just so in bliss
       i hope you're proud of me mama.
              he said earlier he'd be taking me back
to the warehouse later
            i don't know why though.
     do you think he'll tell them i've been
         a good daughter?
                   i hope so.

it was dreadful
terrible.
     almost exhilarating even.
                  you look so downtrodden
   wet.
         offshore.
                   pitiful.
                             how does it feel
to be so far pressed face down?
               teardrops dragging down your
     hair pulling down
            your head.
                             when did you get
        so drenched?
                   so stupid
enough
                to cry for him?
    seeing that
              it is the only thing
  you seem useful for
                                   for him.
           if you want to be his toy—
                         sorry.
you're already a broken one.
                                        soaked in
                beer
and
            tequila
       and
                     ***
                                  and
               diet coke
                         and
                                        puke
        for perfume
                    and yet you smell
more like
                               instant noodles
             and glass shards
on your wrist
                          with your back
       on the same wall as yesterday
       the same wall as the day before that
       the same wall as the day even before
       the same wall that watched you cry
earlier today
             yesterday
                        last week
                               the week before that
       and the day he left you
                 this time
and that one time last month
          and that time during valentines
               and another just after new year's.
i bet even the wall is so ****
      sick of
                  watching you cry for him.
   but i never will.
             'i'm sorry but'
                        'i will always be'
       'here for you'
                   i whisper as if you
     really could hear me speak.
            as if you ever did listen.
               'thanks for being a good friend'
you spoke almost inaudibly
         as if you really replied
                        hearing your
     phone suddenly
              rings to the sound of
         your favorite song
   heartbreak girl by 5sos
                     and you so easily understood.
       between your only two contacts
               me and him
of course you'd run towards him
            the moment he calls
    leaving me behind.
                       i get it.
         it's just a little sad
i didn't get to tell you
                 to call me
       the next time he breaks your heart...
   after all,
                 you exist to make him happy
and i exist only to see you cry.

It never was my fault
   You never learned how
  To swim.

How can you blame me
       Now that you’re drowning?

If all you have
Are empty bottles
And half an empty
Can of glade...
       What is a broken heart
            In your eyes?

    Pitiful

           You don’t even have
     Broken shards
         And poisoned drops—

  So make sure
      Before you
    Start pointing
         Shaking fingers
       You know
  How to make
          A clean cut first.

if you're not the one
who was destined only for me
then i refuse to believe in destiny